


The Resistance

by Narcissa_Mottershead



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Drama, F/F, Fantasy, Gen, M/M, Romance
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-05-21
Updated: 2016-09-30
Packaged: 2018-03-31 15:22:40
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 17
Words: 21,248
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3983062
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Narcissa_Mottershead/pseuds/Narcissa_Mottershead
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>AU where the Order didn't win the battle of Hogwarts and they figure that the only way to get the upper hand on the war that they have now lost is to send Hermione back in time in order to try and turn some of Voldemort's key supporters before they even went dark. But things get complicated when she falls for a certain blonde haired Black family member.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

“We have no other choice,” Minerva McGonagall said gravely. “We lost too many in the battle. Potter is gone. Albus is gone. I see no other options.” The wind howled around the Burrow, the cold night’s storm echoing the gravity of Minerva’s words, making the house's occupants shiver. She was right of course. Harry’s loss at the Battle of Hogwarts had cost them dearly, but they had to continue fighting. Voldemort's reign of fury had begun, and the resistance was running out of options. 

“We have to go back to the beginning,” McGonagall said. “It’s the only way.” She looked tired, battle worn. For the first time in her life Hermione thought that the old witch looked her age. The stress of the past year showed in the deep lines of her face, and in the increasing amount of grey in her once rich brown hair. Even her bright eyes had lost their shine. 

“I agree,” she said quietly, speaking up for the first time that evening. Ron looked sadly at her from across the table. Harry’s death had affected them both badly. He had been the tape that had bound them together, the peacekeeper, and they hadn’t fully appreciated this until he was gone. 

“You can’t be serious,” Molly said incredulously. “Even if we could send someone back, which by the way is almost impossible, we have no way of getting them back let alone to a precise date and in once piece. It’s too risky,” she finished stubbornly. 

“It’s the only chance we’ve got,” Minerva snapped. 

“But who knows what we might change!” Molly cried desperately. “Minerva you of all people know how dangerous time travel is.” 

“But Molly, look around you, change is what we need,” Kingsley said calmly. 

“Fine,” she snapped. “But who? And how?” A heavy silence settled over the kitchen. The occupants of the Burrow eyed each other sadly, each and everyone of them praying that someone else would offer them selves up for the challenge. 

“I’ll do it,” Hermione said at last. 

“What!?” Molly and Ginny exclaimed simultaneously. Startled looks adorned the faces of everyone in the room as all eyes turned to her. 

“Are you sure?” Neville asked. 

“You can’t. No Hermione,” Mrs Weasely said stubbornly crossing her arms. Hermione sighed and looked at her from across the table, her face a mixture of fear and love for the brunet who was once to be her daughter in law. “You can’t,” she said again a little less vehemently. “Hermione it’s far to dangerous.” 

“I’ve had experience with time travel,” she said matter-of-factly. “I know the rules. And it can’t be anyone who was at Hogwarts at the time as you will be certain to run into your younger selves.” Molly looked at her imploringly from across the table. “I can be placed in Slytherin. Then I can work from the inside,” she continued. “Unless of course, any one else wants to volunteer.” She added, looking hopefully around her fellow Order members. Ron, Ginny, Fred, Bill, Charlie, Neville, Fleur, they all kept silent. “I didn’t think so.” 

“But…” Molly looked hopelessly around the table, desperately trying to find a way out of this. She was only nineteen. But they were right, this was the only option left. 

“You must try to turn to the weaker ones first,” Minerva said. “People like Narcissa Malfoy. People who never wanted it in the first place but were sucked in by those around them. Work on her. If you can turn her, you have a chance at getting to Lucius, Bellatrix, and if you have Bellatrix, then we have at least one great advantage. Narcissa is more important than you realise. If she turns, she can influence others.” Hermione nodded. It was a long shot, that they knew, but it would be worth it if it worked. 

Hermione sat in the room she had shared with Ginny for the past year, looking blindly out of the window. She looked around at the posters on the walls, watched as the Holly-Head Harpies smiled and waved at her as they whizzed about their poster, wandering when she would next see all of it again. She shoved her school robes (which had been transfigured into the Slytherin colours, along with her tie and scarf) into her trunk, and closed the lid. It felt odd to be going back to Hogwarts at all after she had seen it’s near utter destruction not a year ago, let alone going back without her friends and into the wrong house. 

She walked into the living room, where the Weasleys, Neville, McGonagall and the rest of the remaining Order were waiting for her. Mrs Weasley hugged her tightly, fighting back tears. 

“Be careful dear,” she said, kissing her cheek. Ginny threw her arms around her best friend. 

“I swear if you don’t come back in one piece I am going to kill you,” she said, trying to smile. Hermione tried to return the smile and looked round at all her friends one last time. McGonagall looked down at her, her eyes full of pride. 

“This is a very brave thing that you are doing Miss Granger,” she said. Then, out of her pocket she pulled a small sliver time turner. “I have set it. You know what to do.” 

“What will my cover be?” Hermione asked curiously. McGonagall took out her wand and drew up a set of official looking papers and handed them over. Hermione smiled. False Identification. 

“I never knew you knew this sort of magic,” she smiled mischievously. McGonagall smirked. 

“Of course I do Granger.” Hermione scanned the papers in her hand. 

“Hermione Song?” she asked, raising an eyebrow and looking up at her old transfiguration teacher. McGonagall smiled. 

“Well we could hardly have a person, looking exactly like you, with the same name as you, walking into Hogwarts twenty years later could we? Too many of the teachers stayed on that long. You will tell people that your parents work for the foreign office at the ministry so you have travelled a lot, which is why you are only joining for a year. No one will know of your muggle heritage. As far as they are concerned you are a pure blood like them. You have nothing to worry about.” Mrs Weasely huffed loudly and McGonagall rolled her eyes. 

“Good luck Miss Granger,” she smiled. Hermione took a deep breath, and span the time turner. 

She found herself standing in a large empty cornfield. It was dark, and a cool breeze swept through the night air, making her shiver. It seemed that the Weasely’s were yet to build their great towering home. Suddenly Hermione heard a rustling noise. She pulled out her wand and looked around the darkness, tense and alert. Minerva McGonagall appeared in the clearing, looking as tense as Hermione felt, her wand drawn like hers, and younger than Hermione had ever seen her. 

“Hermione Song?” she asked. 

“Yes Professor. 

“Take my hand.” Hermione did as she was told and they vanished. 

Hermione smiled as she looked around to find herself in McGonagall’s cosy little office, grinning to herself when she saw the tartan biscuit tin. 

“Sit,” the teacher commanded. Again she did as she was told. Hermione smiled when the teacher offered her the tin, and politely declined. 

“What?” the teacher asked. 

“It’s just nice to know that some things never change.” Hermione smiled. McGonagall looked at her curiously for a moment, before sitting down behind her desk and regarding her with the cool stern gaze that Hermione found familiar and oddly comforting. 

“Lets get down to business then," she said briskly, pulling out a clean red journal. “I have been in communication with my older self,” she said. “And I have been assured that I know every thing that I need to know and absolutely no more, so firstly I must state how important it is that you never speak to me, or anyone else of your mission, and that if you find that you must, you give away no more information than is absolutely necessary.” Hermione nodded, and the older witch continued. “Might I ask what year you are from?” McGonagall asked her. 

“1997” she said. The witch nodded and looked at her gravely. 

“I know I must not ask questions,” she began, 

“Then you shouldn’t.” Hermione interrupted simply. “Yes it is bad. That is why I am here. But the fact that I am here means that perhaps it wont end up like that.” She was determined to make a difference, how ever small. Merlin knows they needed it.


	2. Chapter Two

Hermione found herself sitting in the empty Slytherin common room, hunched up in an armchair by the fireplace, her head in her hands. This was all so strange. It all felt so familiar, yet so foreign. She was back at Hogwarts yes, but everything felt backwards. It felt like it was all inside out, all wrong. She was in the enemy house, sitting in their common room, years before she had even been born, and classmates with her friend’s parents. She knew she had to be here, but that didn’t mean she had to like it. 

Suddenly the door to the common room swung open and a bunch of Slytherine students toppled through into the room, laughing and chatting amongst themselves. When they saw Hermione they stopped frozen still like a muggle painting to gawk at her. She sat up stiffly in her seat and looked back at them cooly, displaying far more confidence than she felt.          

 “Who the bloody hell are you?” demanded a square shaped, mountain of a boy that Hermione assumed was the father of either Crabb or Goyle.         

“Hermione Song,” she said shortly, tilting her head up and straitening her spine so that she drew her self up to her full height in her seat. “Who the hell are you?” Crabb, or Goyle which ever it was, looked confusedly at his friend, (who looked just as confounded as him) as the others around them sniggered.

“What?” he said, sounding just as stupid as he looked at this moment. Hermione heard the sound of a girl sniggering from within the crowd followed by a loud huff. A young Narcissa Malfoy, or rather, Narcissa Black, pushed her way to the front of the crowd and looked boldly into Hermione’s light hazel eyes. She studied her for a moment, taking in every inch of her appearance with one great sweeping glance.           

“She’s the new girl that Sluggy was telling us about at dinner,” she said to the group behind her without taking her eyes off Hermione’s. “Or was I the only one listening?”

“As usual,” sneered a dark, shaggy headed boy.

“Shut it Regulous,” she snapped and the smile slid from Regulus Blacks face. “Ignore them,” she said to Hermione. “Most of them are as stupid as they look. Except perhaps Reg. He’s only half as stupid as he looks.” She smirked at her cousin who rolled his eyes at her half smiling.

“Thanks cousin,” he muttered as he disappeared down the stairs to the boy’s dorm. She thrust out a slender white hand for Hermione to shake and said

“Narcissa Black.” She sat in the chair opposite her and smiled wryly. “I have to say,” she said. “You're not what I expected.” Hermione raised an eyebrow incredulously.           

“And what was that?” she asked, making Narcissa smiled slyly.

“Some one less well groomed.” Hermione couldn’t help but let out a bark of laughter.

“What were you expecting?” she sniggered. “A travellers daughter?” Narcissa chuckled.

“Are you?”

“No”

“Good.” She looked over Hermione once more, curiosity burning in her eyes like the fire that crackled in the grate.

“Slughorn said your parents work for the foreign office at the Ministry,” she said.

“Yes,” Hermione answered shortly. She didn’t like this. Being interrogated. But she was supposed to get close to them, and Narcissa Black was persistent in her questioning.

“Where have you lived then?”

“France, Spain, Romania, the USA and Africa,” she recited. “All over really.”

“Sounds fascinating,” Narcissa said, her eyes fixed on the new witch. “Did you go to Beaux Battons?” Hermione nodded and Narcissa’s eyes narrowed in jealously.  “How does it compare?”

“I’ll have to let you know when I find out,” Hermione said, making the young blond smile, lighting up her flawless face.

“What dorm are you in?” she asked. Hermione pulled out a sheet of paper and read her the number on it.

“That’s mine,” Narcissa said. “I though you would be. We only have rooms of two in seventh year. It was too much to hope for that they would leave me with out a roommate.

“Well I’m sorry for the inconvenience,” she said tersely.

“I’ll just have to cope then wont I?” Narcissa stood up and beckoned for Hermione to follow. “I’ll show you up shall I?”

As she had expected, her trunk and other belongings were by her large four-poster bed, safely padlocked shut. Hermione sat on her bed and looked around the surprisingly cosy room. It was not unlike the room she had shared with her Gryffindor friends, only smaller and they had their own little bathroom to the side. Not to mention the fact that everything was green not red.

“This must be your timetable,” Narcissa said picking up a sheet of paper of Hermione’s bedside table. “Your in most of my classes,” she mused.

“Great,” Hermione murmured trying to smile. This was going to be interesting.

At seven o’clock the next morning Narcissa’s alarm went off and they rose and got ready for breakfast. Sitting at the Slytherine table, Hermione took the opportunity to scout out all the faces she would recognise. Thankfully, no one seemed that interested in her. As soon as she told them about her father’s supposed job they seemed to loose interest. It seemed enough information. Apparently if her father held an important job at the ministry she was automatically counted as one of them. But what was that exactly? A rich brat? An arrogant snob? A bully? She had no idea. She didn’t know how she should act, so she mainly just kept quiet. But how was she supposed to convince these people to swap sides in a war, one that had hardly even begun no less, by keeping quiet?   

She spent the days lessons sat at the back with Narcissa, pondering the question of how she was meant to go about her impossible task, as Narcissa took careful notes on every detail of what the teachers were saying. Whenever a question was asked her hand would shoot into the air and the question would be answered perfectly, a smug little smile appearing on her pretty face as she did so. She reminded Hermione of herself actually. The thought made her smile a little. Narcissa looked at her curiously.

“What?” she asked.

"Nothing,” Hermione said looking down, the smile gone. “You just remind me of someone I once knew. That’s all.”

“Who?” the beautiful young blond whispered when Professor Slughorn wasn’t looking. When Hermione refused to answer she looked at her carefully, the little flame of curiosity crackling behind her ice blue eyes once again, and, sensing the sensitivity of the subject, she let it drop.

That evening they sat in the common room in the two armchairs closest to the fire, listening to the sound of the rain against the windows and the crackling of the flames in the grate as they did their homework in silence. Having missed the first week of the school year, Hermione already had a lot to catch up on. She was supposed to be copying up Narcissa’s notes from potions, but having looked through the material she’d been given, she found that war had taught her all this and more. Wars did that to you, she thought to her self; they make you grow up too fast. In stead she sat, staring blankly into the flames, watching as they leapt and danced before her, filling the room with a surprisingly merry and cosy feel that jarred with the girls mood.

“What are you thinking about?” Narcissa asked, suddenly pulling her back into reality. She was looking at her over the top of her book, studying her as though she was some sort of ancient artefact that she couldn’t quite figure out, fascinating and mysterious. “I’ve been watching you all day,” she said bluntly. “You always seem so lost in your own head. What are you thinking about?”

“Nothing,” Hermione said automatically, but when the young blond raised an eyebrow, looking incredulous, she couldn’t help but let out a little sigh. “Everything,” she said cryptically. “Everything and nothing. It’s not important.”

“Oh but I think it is,” said Narcissa closing her book so that she could lean across the table to look more closely at her. “For it to monopolise your thoughts so it must be. I think it must be very important.”

“It’s complicated,” Hermione said. “And quite frankly I don’t know you well enough to confide anything in you.” Narcissa frowned a little to her self.

“Yes,” she said thoughtfully, her voice softer now, almost as though she was speaking to herself. “I think it must be very complicated. The way it makes you look, like you have a great trouble sitting on you shoulders, never letting you have a moment’s peace, physically weighing you down.” _I do._ Hermione thought to her self. “But you’ll tell me,” she smirked. “Eventually.”

“Will I?” Hermione said, amused at the young witch’s self-confidence. “What makes you think that?” The blond smiled slyly and shrugged.

“You will. Just wait. Not yet perhaps, but you will. I’m sure of it.”

 


	3. Chapter Three

As the weeks passed Hermione found herself settling quickly back into school life. To her surprise her strange friendship with Narcissa Black had begun to grow. She was smart, witty, but of course the young witch knew this and she was not the most modest person Hermione had ever met. But she found that her little faults didn’t seem to matter so much. In fact, they rather amused her. She was certainly the most vain person Hermione had ever encountered, but then again she could afford to be, she was extremely beautiful. She would spend a full hour in front of the mirror at the weekends before even contemplating leaving the room. Hermione watched her one Saturday morning as she brushed and twisted and pinned her hair, trying to make it do what she wanted. Suddenly she let out a cry of frustration and let her arms flop down to her sides in defeat. Hermione couldn’t help but laugh, a smile spreading across her face as the blonde glared at her reflection in the mirror. At the sound of her laughter Narcissa spun around and stared at her, a mixture of frustration and amazement adorning her face.   

“You laughed,” she said. The smile slid instantly from Hermione’s face.

“Oh Merlin, I’m in trouble aren’t I? I’m sorry I didn’t mean…”

“Sorry?” Narcissa said shocked. “No! Don’t be sorry. I’ve never heard you laugh before,” she said, her expression softening. “Not genuinely. I don’t think I have ever even seen you smile until now.”

“I smile,” Hermione muttered defensively.

“Not like that,” Narcissa smirked. She turned back to the mirror as if to study herself once more, “You should smile more often,” she said, looking at the dark haired witch through her reflection in the mirror. “It’s rather beautiful,” she added softly, making Hermione blush. She picked up the pins she had dropped and started to place them carefully in her hair once more. Hermione stood up and moved closer until she was standing behind Narcissa. She could smell the lavender in her hair, and much to her surprise, it made her heart beat a little faster. She caught her hands gently and lowered them, taking the pins from her. She removed the remaining pins from her long slivery blonde hair and let it tumble down, like silver and gold autumn leaves falling from a tree until it hung in loose curls, almost to her waist. Then, very gently, she pulled back the front and pinned it behind her head, so that just a few slim curls delicately framed her slender face.

“Like this,” she said softly. “I like it like this.” Narcissa’s pretty pink mouth curled into a little smile as she turned around to look into her light hazel eyes.

“Only if you smile for me again,” she said, making Hermione giggle. “That’ll have to do,” she said quietly, and taking her hand in her own, they walked down to breakfast.

 

They had hardly sat down at their table when a large, majestic barn owl soared overhead and dropped a letter onto Narcissa’s empty plate. Narcissa broke the Black family crest and scanned the letter. As her ice blue eyes raced across the page a deep frown creased her perfectly smooth forehead, growing deeper the longer she read. A flicker of concern and curiosity danced through Hermione.

“What is it Cissy?” she asked curiously.

“Which fucked up family member is it this time?” sneered Alecto Carrow from across the table. Both Carrow twins starred snidely at them, waiting for her answer. “The blood traitor slut, or the wild drunken psycho?” Narcissa was on her feet in under a second, her wand drawn pointing directly at Alecto’s throat.

“Don’t you dare talk about my sisters like that!” she snarled dangerously. “They are ten times the witch you could ever wish to be,” she growled. She spun on her heel and stalked out of the great hall as the teachers flocked down from the staff table to where Alecto was shaking as though she had just been plunged into an ice bath. Hermione followed.

 

She chased Narcissa down through the entrance hall and through the formal gardens, until finally she caught up with her behind one of the rose bushes. They walked in silence, all the way down to the lake, stopping at last the watch as the giant squid wave it’s tentacles lazily above the water’s clear surface.

“Narcissa, what’s the matter?” Hermione asked tentatively. She turned to face her, her beautiful young face, changed by anger, bitterness, and sadness. “Are you ok?” she asked, brushing a stray strand of blonde from her eyes. “Tell me what’s happened,” she coaxed.

“Alecto’s right,” Narcissa muttered darkly. “My family is totally messed up.” Hermione couldn’t help but agree silently, but she kept her mouth firmly shut.

“Tell me what’s happened,” she said again quietly.

“My sister is marrying a mudblood,” she said heavily. “And according to my parents, this is one of the worst possible crimes against our family and bloodline,” she sighed. “And she is pregnant,” she said defeatedly. “I’m going to be an aunt. But I will never be able to even know my niece or nephew so what does it matter?” She looked hopelessly into Hermione’s eyes; her own flooded with the waters of sorrow and loss. “I may never speak to my sister again. My parents are going disown her. And even to speak to her would be a direct action against them, and then they could cast me out as well.” She sighed heavily; her eyes brimming with unshed tears. “I miss my sister Hermione,” she said thickly. She turned, looking away from her, so that she wouldn’t see the tears now rolling down her face. Hermione felt a hard stab of sadness for her. She had never appreciated just how close she had been to her sisters, and how hard it was for her to loose them both. Suddenly Hermione felt it was more important than ever to save this beautiful young girl, and who ever else possible, from the horrors that the war would bring. She stepped up close behind her and slipped her arms around Narcissa’s waist, drawing her into her embrace.

“I’m sorry,” she whispered into her hair. “It must be so hard.” Narcissa sighed and leaned back into her.

“More than you know.”

 

That evening the two of them sat on one of the large green sofas near the fire place in the empty common room. Narcissa’s white skin seemed almost to glow in the soft yellow light of the flames, her light eyes sparkling as they gazed unfocussed into the empty air. Hermione couldn’t help but feel captivated by her beauty.

“Are you alright?” she asked softly taking her slender hand in her own, tracing random patterns on her palm. Narcissa nodded and smiled weakly at Hermione, who looked down at their intertwined hands.

“Thank you,” she said quietly. “For being there today.”

“Of course,” she smiled back. “Any time.”

“I feel like I can trust you,” she mused. Hermione’s heart sank, as her mind was suddenly flooded with her reason for being here. She withdrew her hand and looked down, avoiding the piercing gaze of the icy waters that were Narcissa’s eyes.

“I can trust you Hermione,” she said, “can’t I?” she kept silent for a moment, and then said,

“I’ll always be here for you. You know that.” Narcissa chuckled.

“How very diplomatic of you,” she said. “I don’t think I have quite unravelled you yet,” she added thoughtfully. “It’s like your hiding some great secret. Something important. You are quite a mystery you know.” With every word Hermione’s pulse quickened; it was like a panicked bird, trapped in the cage of her ribs. Narcissa’s eyes sparkled intensely as she gazed curiously at her. “Who are you Hermione Song? Who are you really?” She looked up slowly into her beautiful, pale face and said bitterly,

“You wouldn’t believe me even if I told you.”  


	4. Chapter Four

Though her friendship with Narcissa was growing rapidly, and she was beginning to see turning her to their side as a real possibility, it wasn't all as pleasant and easy as she would have liked it to be. The blonde witch trusted her. But it was more than that. They knew how to make each other smile, how to entertain one another, and what to say or do when the other was sad, or struggling. She despised lying to her. Keeping such a heavy secret, and having no one to share it with was becoming tremendously hard work. Especially seeing as how close she had become with Narcissa. It was almost taunting her, showing her a person she liked and under anyother circumstances would have confided in, but not being allowed to. She trusted her, perhaps a little too much, and she longed to tell her everything, if not only because she could see no way of turning her without her knowing at least something.

And then there were the nightmares.

There was a flash of green light. It ripped through the air, taring it like fabric and hitting Harry squarely in the chest. Screaming surrounded her. Her own, Ginny's, Ron's, the twins, Mrs Weasley's, it overwhelmed her, was louder than humanly possible, making her insides shake and her ears ring. She sank to her knees, hands clapped over her ears. She could feel the blood seeping through her fingers, running hot and sticky down her icy hands. Harry's lifeless body fell like a broken doll to the ground. Voldemort gave a horrific, terrifying shriek of victory that echoed around the shattered remains of the castle. It shook the ground itself, rubble collapsing in around them, stone tumbling like a waterfall from the once great walls of the castle. His red eyes glowed, shining as blood flowed from them down his snake like face, and he turned on her. Boulders, wood splinters, stones and rubble began to cave in on top of her. She screamed.

Hermione sat bold upright and gasped for air. It flooded her lungs as though a shaft had been opened of a vacuum. She gulped it down thirstily, her heart hammering loudly and intrusively in her chest. Her face wet with both tears and sweat alike. She found Narcissa's frightened face close to hers as she perched on the end of her bed, looking white as Hermione felt.

"Hermione what happened?" she asked, her voice quivering, full of fear and concern. "What happened? Tell me what's wrong."

"Nothing," Hermione gasped hurriedly wiping her eyes on her pyjama sleeve. "Just a dream," she muttered. Her hands were shaking violently.

"Don't lie to me," Narcissa snapped. "I've never seen someone wake up so terrified. Tell me what happened," she said more gently, smoothing back dark curls from the girls face. Hermione shook her head, looking down hopelessly as she was suddenly overcome by a fresh wave of tears. Narcissa sighed in defeat. She pulled the crying girl into her arms and simply held her as she shook, sobbing. She guided them carefully down so that they were lying on the pillows and pulled the covers up around them. She held her as she cried, gently stroking her dark curls, her face, cocooning her in her arms in an attempt to make her feel safe, and murmured soft words of comfort to her.

"What ever this great secret is, this burden that you are carrying," she whispered softly, "you can't carry it alone for ever. It will eat you up Hermione." She was right of course. But if she told her, would she still trust her? Could she handle the truth? Or would she be totally repulsed, and abandon her. She didn't want to risk loosing her.

"You can trust me," Narcissa whispered, in answer to Hermione's silent question. "I won't let it destroy you like this. What ever it is, I swear I won't think any less of you." Narcissa placed a soft kiss on her forehead, making her look up at her through her dark watery eyes as she did so.

"What was that for?" Hermione asked, her voice still thick with tears. The corner of Narcissa's mouth curled up into a little smile.

"Just because," she smiled. Their faces were so close they were almost touching. Narcissa could feel the other girl's warmth, smell the rose shampoo in her hair. Leaning in closer she captured Hermione's mouth with her own. She could taste the salt-water tears on her lips. She puled the brunette closer, removing all unwanted space between them, holding her close, caressing her face, her hair. When, finally, they parted, Hermione's cheeks were flushed pink. Narcissa chuckled to herself.

"I've made you blush," she observed.

"Kissing a person would do that to them," Hermione said, a little breathless.

"You have no idea how long I have wanted to do that," Narcissa breathed. "I told you. I always get what I want." Hermione smiled and nestled into her, closing her eyes. She rested her head on the blonde's chest. Narcissa's heartbeat sped up, making Hermione smile as she listened to it flutter beneath her, and then calm again. It was the most comforting sound she had ever heard.

"You have me," she said. "I'm yours."

The late morning sun filtered through the gaps in the hangings around Hermione's bed, warming Narcissa's skin, gently coaxing her from sleep. Her eyes fluttered open and she found herself gazing at Hermione's peacefully sleeping form as the brunette slowly came into focus. She studied her in the soft autumn light, the placement of the light freckles on her nose and cheeks, the way her long dark eyelashes nearly swept her cheekbones as she slept, the way her soft pink lips parted ever so slightly, and her chest rose and fell in time with the music of her deep restful breathing. She couldn't help but marvel at her beauty. It was so simple, so natural and pure. It was the most basic form of beauty, effortless, innocent, unlike the manicured manufactured beauty of most girls their age. Asleep, all her worries, her mysteries and complexities seemed no longer to plague her. She seemed at peace.

Narcissa traced the air above her lover's form, following he flowing dips and curves of her body, as though memorising every inch of her. She stirred and let out a sleepy mumble, making Narcissa chuckle quietly. Hermione's light green and brown eyes opened sleepily and she found herself looking into the cool blue oceans of her lover's.

"Good morning," the blonde said softly.

"Good morning."

"How did you sleep?" Narcissa asked, sweeping aside a stray curl from Hermione's face.

"Better," she said. "After you came," she added almost shyly.

"Are you okay?" concern leaked into Narcissa's voice.

"I will be."

"Do you want to talk about it?" Hermione shook her head and tore her gaze away from Narcissa's worried face.

"What ever it is Hermione, you don't have to carry this secret alone." Hermione sighed. It saddened her not to be able to tell her. She really did want to help.

"Not yet," she said, looking up into her beautiful blonde's face. Narcissa huffed in an almost child like manner, making Hermione smile.

"Why?" she asked. "It can't be that awful can it?"

"It's very complicated," said Hermione darkly. "It's dark and awful and horrific and so complex that I don't even think I would know where to start." Narcissa was looking solemnly at her, icy eyes sparkling with their ever-constant curiosity. Hermione traced the side of her face with the back of her finger and kissed her softly on the lips. She nestled safely into Narcissa, hiding her face from her piercing gaze, as though trying to hide from the very thoughts that plagued her. Narcissa wrapped her arms protectively around the girl and held her.

"And I can't tell you," she added sadly, "because I don't want to loose you, so soon after I have found you."


	5. Chapter Five

As November drew to a close and winter wrapped its frosty blanket around Hogwarts, the school began to prepare for Christmas. The Great Hall was all but transformed into a winter wonderland with twelve towering fur-trees lining the walls in place of the house banners, decorated with glittering intricate snowflakes enlarged just enough so that you could see every detail of their delicately woven structures; large glass balls hung off of the branches, house coloured fairies glowing inside them, sipping from tiny tea cups or singing songs unheard through the glass, and occasionally fluttering out of their baubles to visit friends in neighbouring trees. The school was buzzing as the end of term began to creep closer, and both teachers and pupils started to find in increasingly difficult to focus in lessons.

 

On the first Saturday of December Narcissa and Hermione woke to find the grounds covered in a thick layer of snow. Hermione dragged Narcissa outside grinning at the carnage that had unfolded at the back of the school. Narcissa groaned as she watched the first year Gryffindors and Slytherins pelting each other with snowballs. She rolled her eyes as she watched Regulus join the battle and Hermione laughed at her.

            “You can’t honestly tell me that you don’t like the snow,” she said incredulously. Narcissa looked from her young lover, to the chaos around them and sniffed disdainfully.

            “I grew out of this years ago,” she said. Hermione looked at her sceptically.

            “Oh come on,” she grinned, “No one grows out of a good snowball fight.” No sooner had she finished her sentence did a large snowball crash into the back of Narcissa’s perfectly styled head, spraying them both with snow and ice. Hermione squealed and burst into fits of laughter as Narcissa stood, eyes wide with shock and fury, whipping the snow from her face. They turned around to find a young Sirius grinning at them, James, Remus and Peter Pettigrew all guffawing behind him.

            “You little rat!” Narcissa growled. She tore her wand from her inside pocket and, with an extravagant flourish, sent a torrent of snowballs at her cousin’s startled face. At this, a full-scale snow war erupted between the Gryffindors and the Slytherins, during which many of the teachers were caught in the crossfire and subsequently drawn into the battle. Hermione screamed and laughed with Narcissa as they sent wave after wave of high-speed snowballs at Sirius and the other Marauders.

 

A wave of snow came roaring towards the Slytherins and Hermione grabbed Narcissa’s hand and pulled her out of the way, sending them toppling to the ground and down the little bank that they were standing next to. They tumbled down the small hill, a mixture of laughter and screaming escaping them as they rolled. Hermione landing squarely on top of Narcissa. The young blonde giggled as she looked up into Hermione’s light hazel eyes. Hermione kissed her quickly, but she pushed her off.

            “Not here,” she giggled. “People will see.” Hermione grinned and jumped up, pulling her to her feet in the process.

            “Come one then,” she grinned, and grabbing Narcissa’s hand she ran under the cover of the trees until they found a little clearing not far from the school. They stopped and simply gazed at each other for a moment. Narcissa was breathing heavily, her blue eyes glittering, cheeks flushed with excitement and cold.

            “I told you no one ever grows out of a good snowball fight,” Hermione grinned smugly. Narcissa smiled mischievously and pushed her up against the back of a tree, roughly capturing the brunette’s lips with her own. She pressed the length of her body against Hermione’s and a rush of adrenaline coursed through her as she felt her small breasts pressed against her own, rising and falling with hers, felt her hand slip inside her thick winter coats to caress the soft skin of her back with her cold fingers. A little moan of pleasure escaped brunette's lips as she lost her self in the other woman’s arms. When they finally pulled apart (some what reluctantly) Narcissa’s eyes were shining and a beautiful smile had unfolded across her face. 

            “You’re so beautiful when you smile,” Hermione said softly. “I’ve never seen you smile like that before.”

            “I’ve never had a reason to smile like this before,” she whispered, leaning her head against Hermione’s and closing her eyes. “Because I have never been this happy before.”

 

That evening Hermione and Narcissa sat by the fire in the common room, waiting for the last few people to leave. Narcissa gazed blindly into the flames, her beautiful blue eyes glassy with thought.

            “Where are you?” Hermione asked softly as Lucius, the last to leave, headed towards the boys’ dormitories.          

            “I was thinking about my sisters,” she said sadly, turning to smile half-heartedly at Hermione.

            “Are you okay?” she asked, gently stroking a strand of white blond from her eyes.

            “I was just remembering how it used to be with us,” she said. “When we were little, everything seemed so perfect, even with Dromida. She was always the quiet one, the thoughtful one. It came in handy too; she always used to come up with them most wonderful excuses to get Bella out of trouble and nine times out of ten they worked.” She smiled to her self. “Bella was wild, uncontrollable even, but she had a soft side to her. Though if anyone even suspected it she would make them believe otherwise. She was so protective over us, and still is over me. No one could ever bully us, except for her.” Hermione had never realised just how close Narcissa was with her sisters. She took her hand in her own and gave a reassuring squeeze, making her look up. “I miss them Hermione,” she said quietly. “I miss how it used to be.” Hermione pulled the girl into her arms and hugged her tight and kissed her lightly on the forehead.

            “It’s not to late you know,” she said. “It doesn’t have to be like this.” But Narcissa shook her head.

            “They have changed,” she sighed. “Especially Bella. Ever since she met Rodolphus she’s felt the need to prove herself. She’s grown cold, unforgiving. She hates Dromida. I’m the only one she will show any warmth to and even that is rare.”

            “But it is still there,” Hermione reassured her. “You just have to show her what is really important Cissy.” Narcissa looked up at her and smiled, tracing the line of her face with her fingertips.

            “Thank you Hermione,” she smiled.

            “For what?”

            “For being there. For coming into my life.” And as she kissed her, Hermione felt a stab of guilt at her heart. Lying to her was becoming impossible. But what other choice did she have?

 She had to try and save her. She loved her too much to see her suffer as she had seen in the future. But she could no longer achieve that by lying to her. Though the thought terrified her, she had to tell her the truth.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry it's been so long since I posted for this! I was away and then I was ill but it will be much more regular now I promise! let me know what you think :)


	6. Chapter 6

When Narcissa woke she stretched out instinctively to pull her lover closer to her. As she did so however she found that the bed next to her was cold and empty. The smile slid from her face and she opened her eyes to find Hermione gazing out of the frosted window, utterly lost in thought. She rose and walked silently over to her, wrapping her arms around her waist. She kissed the nape of her neck, then her shoulder, her collarbone, and finally rested her chin on her shoulder.

            “I’d ask you what you are thinking about,” she murmured, “but I doubt you would tell me.” Hermione turned around and looked sadly into the young witches startling blue eyes. She kissed her softly, carefully, as though not to break her, and when she pulled back Narcissa was frowning at her, a mixture of confusion and concern mapped out across her face. 

            “Not that I am complaining,” she said quietly, “but what was that for?”

            “I need you to promise me something,” Hermione said.

            “Hermione what is it?” Narcissa asked, the frown creasing her forehead deepening.

            “I need you to promise me that you’ll listen. That you’ll listen to everything I have to say before forming a judgement. Before you react, you must listen to the whole story.” Narcissa frowned up at her and sighed.

            “You’re being incredibly cryptic,” she said.

            “Just promise me,” Hermione pleaded.

            “I promise,” she said. “Now tell me what it is that has been eating away at you.”

            “Not here,” Hermione said. “I don’t want to risk being overheard. We’ll go for a walk.”

           

They dressed in silence and then walked through the bustling castle towards the grounds. They walked through the snow in silence, the only sound that of their crunching footprints, which seemed unusually loud as it attempted to fill the quiet void between them. When they reached the Hogwarts Bridge they stopped. Hermione looked out over the side of the bridge up at the castle in the distance. She had never appreciated just how lonely it looked, sat upon it’s hill by itself, not another building for miles and miles. In that moment it looked as lonely as she felt.

            “I need to tell you something,” she said, unable to turn and look at her lover, “and it is going to shock you.” Narcissa frowned once more.

            “I’m listening.”

            “Just remember what you promised,” Hermione said, forcing herself to turn and look at her.

            “Of course,” she said. Hermione took a deep, shaky breath, and looked into her lover’s curious eyes.

            “I’m not who I said I am.”

            “What do you mean?” Narcissa asked impatiently.

            “ I mean,” she said, “that everything you think you know about me, is wrong.” Narcissa looked at her and folded her arms across her chest, the little frown creasing her forehead deepening. “I am a muggle born,” she continued. “I was born, to two muggle parents, on the 19th  September, 1979.”

            “What do you mean, 1979?” Narcissa demanded. “That’s not for another six years.” Hermione sighed and pulled out the Time Turner that she kept hidden under her blouse. 

            “This is a Time Turner,” she explained, “I came back from the year 1997 to try and gain an advantage for the resistance in a war that has hardly yet started, but that has already taken so many lives I have lost count.” Narcissa’s eyes were wide with shock; her hand flew to her mouth obscuring a little gasp.

            “Stop,” she said. “Just stop talking I can’t listen to this.” Her mind was reeling, racing around in circles so fast she couldn’t think. Her heart was beating hard and fast in her throat, making her feel sick. This was all too much. This wasn’t possible.

            “Narcissa please,” Hermione begged. “You made me a promise.”

            “Then you had better explain,” the young blonde snapped shakily. “Everything.”

            “I’m so sorry Cissy,” Hermione said “I wanted to tell you everything but…”

            “Then tell me now!” Narcissa demanded. Hermione took a deep breath, and tried her hardest to explain.

            “In the future there will be a war. Two wars in fact. A dark wizard by the name of Lord Voldemort” Narcissa’s eyes widened in shock upon recognition of the name that she had so often heard tumble excitedly from her sisters lips, “and he will wage a war, first on the muggle-borns, people like me, and then on all those he considers “blood traitors”. And he will win. People will die. People _you_ love. I have seen it happen. Your family, your child, will all be in continuous danger.” She gave another, great heavy sigh, as though simply recounting all that had happened in the past two years exhausted her. “I honestly don’t know how many of my friends I have seen die. This war, is the reason I wake up screaming every night. I was sent back, to try and turn some of the people we thought could help convert some of his key supporters. And I was told you were the key.”

            “Me?” Narcissa croaked, her voice shaking; tears stung behind her eyes.

            “I was told that if I could get close to you, I may be able to turn other important people close to Him.”

            “So everything you told me, was a lie?” she asked, desperately trying to hold back the tears that were itching to run down her face and disgrace her even further. “Every time you kissed me, every time you told me you loved me, it was all a lie?”

            “No!” Hermione reached out to take her hand in her own but Narcissa flinched backwards. “Narcissa I fell in love with you,” she said. “At first, I was just talking to you because it was what I was told to do. But then…”

            “Oh spare me the clichés!” Narcissa spat, a look of disgust and betrayal spread across her face. “I can’t believe I was such a fool!” she muttered almost to her self. “ I suppose you are going to tell me that you are a Gryffindor as well?” Hermione looked at her, she didn’t even need to answer the question.  Narcissa let out a harsh bark of laughter.

            “Merlin’s beard!” she exclaimed. “And to think, I gave it all to a piece of mudblood scum like you.” And with that last, scalding remark, she fled back in the direction of the castle. Hermione felt her heart crumble. She let her self slide to the floor as tears flooded her eyes. She had lost everything now. She’d lost her best friends, she’d lost any hope of winning the war, but worst of all,  she’d lost her lover. And that was more that she could cope with.

             


	7. Chapter 7

The next few days were all but unbearable. Narcissa scarcely looked at Hermione, let alone spoke to her. She would avoid her at all costs, doing her work in the Library, eating meals at the other end of the Slytherin table, and when it got late, she would return to the Slytherin dungeon, walking straight past Hermione and up to their room. Unable to endure the stony silence between them Hermione would wait, sometimes until past midnight, before retiring up to their dormitory to find the curtains around Narcissa’s four-poster bed pulled tightly shut. In the mornings she would leave for breakfast before Hermione woke.

 

She hated it. More than she could say. She missed the feel of her her warm naked body next to hers at night: the way she woke to find her cool curious blue eyes watching her as she slept, and the way she would take her hand in her own under the desks and trace secret patterns in her palm, revelling in the knowledge that no one knew. And she knew, no matter how hard Narcissa tried to hide it, that she missed her too. Though she never heard her, (Hermione suspected the younger witch had put a muffliato spell around her bed) she knew that the blonde cried at night. Her light eyes gave her away with their unnatural shine and red rims. More than once she had caught Narcissa looking at her from across the classroom. But whenever she tried to talk to her, she simply walked away, or turned her back.

 

It had been five days. Five days since she had told her everything. Five days since she had last spoken to her, and Hermione was coming dangerously close to breaking point. It was a Friday, ne week before the end of term, and after dinner Hermione followed Narcissa from the Great Hall. As she turned to ascend the great marble staircase Hermione reached out and halted her as she grabbed her hand, pulling her back. Narcissa turned slowly to face her.

            “Unhand me Song,” she snarled. “If indeed that _is_ your real name.”

            “We need to talk,” Hermione muttered. “And no,” she added, “it’s not.”

            “Figures.”

 

Hermione marched the young blonde all the way down to the edge of the Black Lake, which had frozen over, all apart from a small jagged circle in the middle, created by the giant squid and it’s insistence on airing it’s tentacles above the water.

            “We need to talk,” Hermione repeated as Narcissa yanked her wrist from Hermione’s grip.

            “I told you,” she growled. “I have no desire to hear anything further from you.”

            “Narcissa please just listen to me.”

            “No,” Narcissa interrupted. “ _You_ listen to _me.”_ The rage that had been slowly bubbling away beneath the surface for the past five days was coming dangerously close to overflowing. She could feel it choking her, and if she didn't let it out soon, it would suffocate her completely. “You lied to me Hermione. You lied about _everything._ The whole damn basis of our relationship was a lie.”

“But Cissy I never…”

“Don’t call me that! Don’t you dare call me that! You lost the right to call me that!” She was right. Hermione knew it. “You used me,” Narcissa said stepping closer, making Hermione flinch back from her. “You used me and you lied to me about _everything._ Did I even mean anything to you?”

“Of course!” Hermione exclaimed. “Narcissa that is what I have been trying to tell you!”

“But how can I trust anything you say?” Narcissa cried. “Nothing about you is real! Your bloody name isn’t even real!” She took another step towards her. “You,” she said pointing as she did so. Again Hermione flinched back. “You played me for a fool! And you made me fall in love with you,” she finished hopelessly, letting her hand fall dejectedly to her side. A loud crack interrupted Hermione as she opened her mouth to speak. Both girls looked down at the ice that was now beneath their feet, and then at the web of cracks that Hermione was standing on. With a deafening ‘snap’ and a scream, Hermione was sucked under the ice.

 

Narcissa screamed as the girl went under and lunged forwards, grabbing at her, only to snatch at her jumper which was consequently ripped from her hands as she was dragged under. Narcissa screamed her name again and again, scanning the water and ice frantically for any sign of life beneath. As she reappeared near the centre of the lake Narcissa grabbed her hand to stop her sliding back under, but she was jerked roughly forwards as something tugged sharply at Hermione.

            “It’s the gryndilows!” she yelled. “They’ve got my legs!” Narcissa pulled desperately, but only found her self being steadily dragged in the opposite direction.

            “Don’t let go!” Narcissa yelled. But their hands were slipping, growing numb with cold, unable to hold on. Their fingers slipped, and Hermione was plunged under once more. Narcissa followed on top as Hermione was dragged along under the ice. Pulling out her wand, she aimed carefully at the ice above the dark mass around Hermione’s legs and yelled,

            “Reducto!” With a violent blast a great hole was blow in the ice the gryndilows scarpered. Narcissa quickly grabbed Hermione’s hands and hauled her out of the water. The girl was shuddering violently in her arms. It felt like her very core was shaking she was so cold. Her face was deathly white, and her lips almost blue, like a heavy frost had settled on them. The air was so cold that the water was already starting to freeze in her hair. Narcissa held her close to her, tightly wrapped in her arms, and kissed her forehead.

            “Please,” Narcissa whispered as tears slid down her face, “hang on okay? Please Hermione, please, I love you. Just stay awake.” But the last thing that Hermione saw, was a bright white light escape Narcissa’s wand, in what appeared to be the shape of an otter, bounding towards the castle.

 

Hermione woke slowly, feeling very groggy and dazed. She shielded her eyes against the bright white lights above her, and slowly began to recognise the neat rows of little white beds that lined the halls of the Hospital Wing. She looked down to see Narcissa’s white blond head resting on her legs as she dozed lightly. Hermione gently brushed aside her fair hair from her face and she woke with a start. When she saw Hermione awake and smiling wearily she heaved a grate sigh of relief.

            “Thank Merlin,” she whispered. Taking Hermione’s face in her hands she kissed her very gently. “Don’t _ever_ do that again.”

            “I’ve missed this,” Hermione murmured. Narcissa rolled her eyes and chuckled.

            “You contract hypothermia and nearly drown and _that’s_ all you’ve got to say?” she laughed. Hermione smiled again.

            “Well it’s true,” she said. Narcissa couldn’t help but smile, though she swatted her arm playfully all the same. She then looked at her seriously, her eyes bright, shining with unshed tears.

            “You frightened me,” she said simply, her voice barely more than a whisper. “When I pulled you out you were whiter than parchment. Your lips were blue. And then you lost consciousness in my arms and,” her voice had begun to tremble as she spoke. Hermione took her hand in her own and gave it a little squeeze.

            “Don’t,” she said softly. “I’m fine. I’ll be fine.” Narcissa smiled weakly and kissed her hand, holding it in both of her own.

            “I’m sorry,” she said, “for how I behaved.”

            “I know,” Hermione said. “So am I.”

            “I want to help,” said Narcissa, lowering her voice.

            “Really?” Narcissa nodded.

            “Really.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I am so so so so sorry it has been so long since I posted on this fanfiction! It's not dead i promise I have just been away for ages so I never got around to posting the next chapter. I promise I'll post a chapter every other day now to make up for it :P Please let me know what you think of this chapter I love hearing what people think :) Happy reading everyone :)


	8. Chapter 8

Hermione was confined to the hospital wing for a further three days, until finally the end of term approached and Madame Pomfrey had no choice but to release her. She did so reluctantly however, and on one condition, that Hermione did not spend the holiday alone in the castle as she had originally thought to do.

            “She won’t be,” Narcissa had said, making them both look up at her. “Because she’ll be staying with me.” Hermione had struggled to conceal her shock at this as the matron huffed loudly and discharged her. The thought of spending two whole weeks with the infamous Black family was nothing short of terrifying. Not to mention, there was an unsettlingly high probability of her coming into contact with Bellatrix, something she had actively avoided since her narrow escape from Malfoy manner. She still had to use glamour charms to conceal the scars on her forearm, and the though of coming face to face with the woman that had put them there made her very insides quake with fear .

 

She slept badly that night, her usual nightmare replaced by images of tall gaunt men and women with perfectly styled black hair standing over her, their wands drawn, screaming obscenities about her blood status down at her. When they woke the next morning Hermione had dark circles under her eyes, and she felt more exhausted than she had done all week. She dressed swiftly and silently, and then sat on the edge of Narcissa’s bed and watched as the blonde faffed with her hair. Narcissa looked at her through the mirror, and once she had pinned the last slid into place, she turned and took the girls hands in her own.

            “Okay?” she asked. Hermione looked up at her and forced a smile. Her stomach was tying itself in tight knots; squirming and writhing like a pit of snakes.

            “Nervous,” she said.

            “Don’t be. They’ll love you,” Narcissa said. “Just so long as they don’t find out about your blood status and who you really are,” she added with a nervous laugh.

            “I can manage that.” Narcissa smiled and planted a soft kiss on her forehead.

            “You’ll be fine.” Then she took her by the hand, and with one final glance around the room, they made their way down to the train.

 

Once Hermione and Narcissa had stowed their trunks into the luggage carriage they found an empty compartment, closed the door behind them, and drew the blind down against the intruding eyes of the rest of the train. They sat side by side in silence for a moment, Hermione’s fingers drumming against the edge of the seat. Upon noticing this Narcissa looked at her and raised a single slender eyebrow incredulously.

            “What could you possibly have heard about my family that could make you this nervous? If they don’t find out about your blood status you have nothing to worry about.”

            “Can’t tell you,” she said. “Sorry. You know the rules. Need to know only.” Narcissa rolled her eyes.

            “I have told them you are coming. They said they are looking forward to meeting you. Relax. It will all be fine,” she reassured her, taking her hand in her own and giving it an affectionate squeeze.

            “I’m sorry I can’t tell you more,” Hermione said. Narcissa’s expression softened and she sighed; sweeping a stray curl from her face, she kissed her.

            “It’s okay,” she said. “Now relax. You look exhausted,” she added.

            “Nearly drowning and then contracting hypothermia will do that to a woman,” Hermione smiled weakly.

            “Sleep then my love,” Narcissa said. She kissed her once more and Hermione rested her head in her lap. Soon, due to the combined efforts of the rocking of the train and the soothing stroking of Narcissa’s light fingers through her curls, her deep hazel eyes fluttered shut.

 

Narcissa watched for a while as the fields and lakes sprinted past the train windows, idly stroking her fingers through Hermione’s hair, toying with her curls. She was right to be afraid of course. If her parents even suspected that they were in any way romantically involved, well, it didn’t bare thinking about. They’d be furious, disgusted even. They would have to be careful. She knew that Hermione would easily be able to hide her blood status and her true past; that was the least of Narcissa’s worries. What worried her most, was her sister. Bellatrix had always been able to see straight through her lies. Narcissa even suspected her sister knew her better than she did herself. She could figure out a person’s motive, before they really understood them themselves. It wasn’t legilmency, (though Narcissa knew she was perfectly capable of that also.) She simply had a way of reading people, and cutting straight to the heart of the matter. But would she tell? Would she even care? There was no way of knowing. She was like the weather, unpredictable, capable of changing without a moments notice, and at times, even dangerous. And Hermione clearly feared her family. The question was, why? She knew Bella could be frightening to some, and that her parents were conservative in their views to say the least. But what could they have done, or rather, what _would_ they do, to elicit such fear in a person who had seen battles and fought a war? The idea that her own family might be capable of provoking such fear, terrified her.

 

When the train finally rumble to a stop in Kings Cross Station Narcissa woke Hermione and they stepped out onto Platform 9 ¾. Narcissa gave her hand one last reassuring squeeze, and out from the crowd, a tall, curvatious witch sauntered towards them. Bellatrix Lestrange. Hermione swallowed nervously. She was, just as Hermione had imagined her to be. Her hair was exactly as it was in the future, wild curls toppling over her back, sans the single streak of grey, in a dark black tumbling mess of chaos that had been roughly pinned back from her pale slender face. Her eyes had yet to become sunken and ringed by black thunderclouds; her face, though slim, was still young and beautiful, waiting to be made thin and gaunt by the dementors of Azkaban. She looked over Hermione, taking in every detail of her with one, long, penetrating sweep of her black eyes. A grin spread across her face and she turned to her sister.

            “Well sister,” she said, “what have we here?”  

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Another chapter today as promised! Am trying to make up for how long it has been since I posted XD I hope you all enjoy. Thank you for the comments! Please continue letting me know what you think I love to hear feedback. For now, happy reading!


	9. Chapter 9

Black Hall was, without a doubt, the most beautiful home Hermione had ever seen. Far from being the dark, shadow infested mansion that she had expected, it was instead a beautiful dark bricked Georgian Manner House, with high ceilings and tall windows that stretched from floor to ceiling of each floor. They welcomed in the soft wintery sunlight, which bounced off of the glittering snow outside to fill the spacious rooms.

 

Narcissa’s parents had been, as Hermione had expected them to be, rather cold and formal upon their first meeting. But much to Hermione’s relief, outside of meal times she rarely encountered them. The person they did see a lot of (or rather too much of in Hermione’s opinion) was Bellatrix. Narcissa’s sister seemed to spend a surprising amount of time away from her own home and husband. But Hermione soon grew used to her explosive temperament, and learned quickly which topics of conversation to avoid. In fact the wild-haired witch could become almost amicable under her little sisters influence. Even though this was the case, Hermione never quite felt at ease around her, not even with Narcissa at her side. Bellatrix’s cold black eyes would stalk her around the room, noting every step she took, every fidget she could not resist, and every word she spoke, especially those directed towards Narcissa. But at night, when all had retired for the evening, and Bellatrix had left the Hall (most often having been turfed out by her mother), Hermione would creep into Narcissa’s room and take comfort in her embrace, and the two would fall asleep in the small hours of the morning, intertwined in each others arms.

 

Christmas came and went, and was on the whole fairly uneventful. Hermione and Narcissa exchanged gifts privately, away from prying black eyes, and at dinner that evening Druella announced joyfully that the annual New Years Eve dinner party (which was apparently a tradition upheld by the “most noble and honerable” of the pure blood families) was to be held, this year, at Black Hall.

 

By New Year’s Eve Hermione’s stomach was in knots. The idea of being in a house full of current and future death eaters made her very bones tremble. Although in theory she had nothing to fear, as the chances that anyone was going to find out who she really was were negligible, she had not felt this unsafe since before she had come back in time. She sat on the edge of Narcissa’s bed, fiddling nervously with the necklace that Narcissa had given her for Christmas, as she watched her lover faff with her hair, twisting and curling it into an elaborate and glamorous design at the nape of her neck.

            “I wish you had told me about this before we left school,” Hermione grumbled, “then I would have been able to pack something appropriate.”

            “It slipped my mind,” Narcissa said simply. She turned in her seat and smiled thoughtfully at her. She had lent Hermione one of her favourite dresses, a slender floor length black gown, that dipped slightly at the neck, and clung loosely to her slim body, accentuating her subtle curves. “You really don’t see how beautiful you are do you?” Hermione rolled her eyes and Narcissa took her hand and pulled her towards the full-length mirror and stood behind her, forcing the young brunette to look at her reflection.

            “Narcissa what are you doing?”

            “Just look,” Narcissa said, “and try to see what I see.”

            “I don’t understand what you see,” Hermione muttered. Narcissa smiled to herself and looked at the girl’s reflection.

            “I see your eyes,” Narcissa said, her voice softening as she wrapped her arms around her lovers waist, “and I see their hundreds of different shades of green and brown and gold, and the way that they sparkle when you smile. I see how creamy and pale and smooth your skin is, and how perfectly placed and symmetrical the freckles on your nose and cheeks are.” Both girls giggled and Narcissa gave Hermione an affectionate little squeeze. “And I see your rich brown hair and how it curls around you face and down your back.” She gently swept it aside so that it trailed over one shoulder, and kissed her neck, and then her shoulder, pulling her closer, breathing in the scent of roses as she did so. Hermione’s finger trailed over the light silver plate of the bracelet that had been her Christmas present to her, the word “patience” engraved and spelled so that only the two of them could read it.  

 

The door slammed open and the girls jumped apart. Bellatrix stood in the doorway, dressed in a tight fitting revealing black gown. She leaned languidly against the door frame and surveyed them for a moment, before saying in a bored voice,

“Mother wants you downstairs now Cissy. The Malfoys are here.”

 

Hermione found herself placed between Bellatrix and Rodolphus, and opposite Narcissa, who had been placed next to Lucius. As Narcissa’s attention was monopolised by Malfoy for the duration of the evening, and Bellatrix and Rodolphus spent the entire time arguing across her, Hermione was left well enough alone. Finally, when she could no longer stand to watch Lucius boast and flirt with Narcissa, she turned her attention to the other conversation that wafted around the table. The men talked of politics, and the women of marriage, Narcissa’s marriage, to Lucius. Druella sat very close to Lucius’s mother, their blonde heads together as they plotted, their children oblivious to their plans. By the time dinner had ended and they had all filed out into the drawing room, the marriage was all but arranged. And then, as if to seal the deal, Lucius pulled Narcissa towards him and as the clock struck midnight, he kissed her.

 

Hermione’s heart screamed as she watched, screamed in protest, in pain, and in horror as she realised the inevitability of Narcissa’s future. She couldn’t breath, couldn’t think. She felt as though an icy hand had plunge itself into her chest and had it’s long thin fingers wrapped around her heart, squeezing it, constricting it. She walked quickly and quietly from the room, tears burning behind her eyes, and once she was out of earshot, and out of sight, she ran to her room.

 

A soft knock made Hermione look up, and she hurriedly cleaned the tear stained make-up from her face as Bellatrix entered. The dark witch’s expression was uncharacteristically soft. There was little to no hint of the usual hostility that occupied her black eyes, nor of the sneering arrogance that she exuded when parading about in front of family and friends. She seemed, Hermione thought, almost calm, and sincere.

            “You know, it’s customary to wait for a reply when one knocks on someone’s door,” Hermione snapped irritably.

            “I don’t much care for customs,” Bellatrix replied matter-of-factly.

            “I can see that.” Hermione turned back to her mirror and started replacing her make-up, and repining her hair.

            “We need to talk.” Bellatrix moved into the room, shutting the door behind her.

            “About?”

            “My sister.” Hermione caught her breath, her back stiffening,

            “What do you mean?”

            “Let’s not waist time Hermione. I know, about you and my sister.” Hermione turned slowly to face her.

            “How?” Bellatrix laughed.

            “It doesn’t take a legilimence to figure it out,” she laughed. “I’ve been watching you. It’s obvious. And then your reaction just now to Lucius Malfoy so crudely lurching in to kiss her confirmed my suspicions. Oh,” she added, “and I saw you earlier when I burst in.” She grinned, clearly impressed at her own deductive skills.

            “So what are you going to do? Warn me off her? Tell me that if I hurt her you’ll kill me?”

            “You don’t need me to tell you that,” Bellatrix smirked. “You already know it.”  

            “Then what do you want?”

            “To warn you, not off of her,” she added quickly as Hermione rolled her eyes. “To warn you. To stop you _both_ from getting hurt. Because you know as well as I that this,” she sighed and looked at Hermione hopelessly, “this cannot last. It will end painfully, for both of you. She will be forced to marry Lucius and be miserable, and you will be heart broken.”

            “I expect nothing less,” Hermione muttered darkly. She looked up at the young Bellatrix, studying her in the dimly lit room. “You really love her don’t you?” she said after a while. Bellatrix looked down at her hands, refusing to meet the young witch’s calculative gaze. “It’s alright. You don’t have to say so. I can see it, in the way that you feel the need to protect her all the time, in the way that you look at her not like a sister, but as if she were your own child.” She was right of course, and the fact that Bellatrix was refusing to answer her, only proved her point further. She had never seen a person more protective over a sibling. She had never seen them fight, not even a little. And although Bella was loath to admit it, it was obvious that there was no single person she loved more in this world than her baby sister.

            “I practically raised her,” Bellatrix muttered. “A mother like ours, well, she has little time for us.”

            “Remember this feeling,” Hermione said, standing up to face her. “Remember this feeling, and how important she is to you. Because she will need you; no one else is going to protect her. She can’t loose you. If she does, she’ll have no one to look out for her.” Bellatrix frowned.

            “I don’t understand.”

            “Like you said, this wont end well, and so I won’t always be here to protect her. So you will have to. Be there to pick up the pieces, and to protect her. And remember, that you need her, as much as she will need you.” 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Another day another chapter as promised :) Do let me know what you think and thank you for the comments so far! I hope you enjoy :) See you again tomorrow !


	10. Chapter 10

Hermione signed off her letter to McGonagall detailing the conversation she had had with Bellatrix at the New Years dinner. Her old head of house had been keeping in touch with her future self to inform her of the progress that Hermione had been making. Of course, she had been sparse about the details of her relationship with Narcissa, but it was safe to say that she had successfully identified the one thing that may, with a little luck, keep Bellatrix from fully committing to Voldemort. And as long as this tiny ounce of doubt as to the cause was sitting on her heart, as long as she valued Narcissa’s safety above You Know Who’s cause, as long as she loved her more than them, there was hope for her. She suspected that it would not be long now until she was sent back home. She only hoped she had done enough, and that Narcissa would try to continue her work, even in the face of her future husband’s allegiances. As she watched her owl disappear into the distance, she felt a little whisper of dread at the idea of having to leave her lover behind.

 

Narcissa burst into the room, the door slamming violently open against the wall, a Bellatrix like expression of pure anger adorning her face. Hermione looked up and frowned.

            “What is it?” she asked. “What’s the matter?”

            “Apparently I am to marry Lucius Malfoy!” Hermione’s heart sank. Narcissa started to pace back and forth in front of the bed, her words tumbling from her mouth in a whirlwind of rage. “Apparently we are to be married this summer, after graduation. This summer! That’s not even a year from now! Oh and of course I have no choice in the matter. Apparently it is a ‘non-issue’ that I don’t love him. I’ll learn to in time, mother says. We looked so lovely together last night at the diner party that it seems our mothers decided it is “simply meant to be”!” She turned sharply to glare at Hermione, who had been sat calmly on the bed the entire time, her hands folded neatly in her lap. “Why won’t you say anything!” she demanded. “Why are you not angry about this?”

            “I am from the future remember,” she muttered darkly. “This isn’t exactly a surprise for me.” Narcissa’s icy eyes widened in shock and she ran at Hermione as she shouted,

            “You knew!?! And you didn’t think to warn me?”

            “How was I supposed to know you were to be married so young? I haven’t even been born yet remember. I thought you married him because you loved him not because your parents made you.” Hermione flopped back against the cushions and let out a deep sigh. She rubbed her eyes wearily with the palms of her hands, and then looked up at her young lover. “Even if I had told you, what difference would it have made? Any way you know I am not allowed to tell you any more than is absolutely necessary, especially about you own timeline.”

            “Do you even care?” Narcissa asked blankly. “I have just told you that my parents are forcing me to marry a person I hardly even know, a _man_ that I don’t love, and you scarcely even blink.” Hermione looked up and scowled at her lover. Her eyes itched hotly, tears scratching against them, threatening to break loose.

            “How can you say that?” she whispered. “Watching you kiss him last night made my blood boil. All I wanted to do was scream and cry and run to you. But I couldn’t. I was so furious, and yet I was not even allowed to show it.” Narcissa smiled a little.

            “If it makes you feel any better, he wasn’t half as good as you.”

            “I should bloody well hope not!” Hermione laughed. The two girls kissed, and Hermione wrapped Narcissa in her arms and they lay in silence for a while. The horror and dread of what was to happen to them seemed to be slowly sinking into her every pore as the realisation hit them that they were nearing the end of this era. Narcissa wanted to scream; she wanted to shout and cry and throw things. But there was nothing she could do. There was no way of stopping this. The fact that Hermione had known this would happen all along simply proved it. She would be forced to marry a man she did not love, and be miserable. She held on tighter to Hermione, encased safely in her arms.

            “I don’t want to marry him,” she whispered. “I want to marry you.”

            “You know that’s not possible. I don’t even know how much longer I’ll be here before they pull me back.”

            “We’ve never talked about that before,” Narcissa mused.

            “I suppose we have both been avoiding the subject rather carefully.”

            “I’ll wait for you,” Narcissa said, pushing herself up onto her elbow to look Hermione in the eye.

            “Are you sure? You’ll be waiting for quite a while.” Narcissa smiled.

            “I’d do anything for you.”

            “Then make me a promise,” Hermione said.

            “What?”

            “Marry him,” she said. “When I go back, you must marry him. You must have his son, and raise him to be good. You must make him like you, he must have your heart, your goodness. Promise me.”

            “Why? Why is it so important that I marry him?” Hermione rolled her eyes.

            “You know I can’t tell you that.” Narcissa looked at her uncertainly.

            “And even if I do, you’ll come back to me?”

            “Of course. As soon as I come back, I’ll find you.”

            “Then I promise.”

 

Bellatrix heard a soft knocking at her door. She had been hiding away from her wretched husband in her old room all day. She could swear she found him more intolerable by the day.

            “Come,” she barked, not looking up from her book.

            “Bella?” The dark haired witch looked up to see her little sister standing in the doorway. Bellatrix frowned at her.

            “Cissy what’s the matter?” she asked, putting down her book and sitting up a little straighter.  

            “I’m to marry Lucius Malfoy,” she said, her voice breaking. Her eyes shone with unshed tears. Bellatrix sighed and opened her arms to her baby sister. Narcissa ran to her, a great sob escaping her chest as she buried herself in her sister’s embrace.

 Bella held her, encased in her long arms, running her fingers through her hair, and cradling her in silence whilst she cried, as she had done when they were children. As she had done for both of her sisters up until very recently. Hermione’s words echoed around her head, and she felt that familiar need to be the protector, to protect her little sister from all the darkness and all the shadows that were creeping into the world at the moment. And she couldn’t help but feel that the picture she inhabited, was suddenly one third incomplete, without Andromida.

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry I didn't post a chapter for the past two day after promising I would ! I am in Rome so finding time is tricky but here is another one! I hope you enjoy and if you do, let me know! If you don't, well then let me know that also! Have fun and happy reading folks!


	11. Chapter 11

McGonagall set the Time-Turner for Hermione and handed it over.

 “I have corresponded with my future self,” she said. “I will meet you here, and take you to wherever it is your head-quarters are.” Hermione nodded. She knew it would be dangerous, appearing back in Hogwarts over twenty years in the future, but she had no idea how much she had changed, and to move her somewhere else at this point may place her in a more dangerous environment, even than Hogwarts. After the Battle of Hogwarts Lord Voldemort had claimed the castle as his own in a moment of arrogant triumph and egotistic irony, turning a place of learning and good, and a beacon of hope, into a maze of destruction and persecution. It had become a prison, and a slave house for those who had been captured in the battle.

 “Thank you Professor,” Hermione said. The young McGonagall smiled kindly at her, and said,

 “Good luck Granger.” And with that, Hermione spun the dial on the little golden Time-Turner, and disappeared.

 Hermione found herself staring around McGonagall’s discarded, devastated office. It was dark, the room shrouded in gloom; the great mahogany desk had been split in two, one half lying overturned by the door, papers scattered and shredded across the floor, the Gryffindor banner behind the desk tattered and torn from the wall. The little tartan biscuit tin lay forgotten and covered in dust in the corner of the room. Hermione jumped and pulled out her wand as she heard a dull thud come from the other side of the door. Her wand pointed at the closed door, she readied herself as it creaked open, guarding herself against whomever was about to enter. She heaved a sigh of relief when McGonagall entered the little office.

 “Granger?”

 “Yes.”

 “I have to check,” the other woman said tersely. Heriomne nodded. “My animagus,” she said. “What is it?”

 “A cat.”

 “What kind of cat?”

 “A tabby cat,” Hermione answered at once as the stern looking tabby with circular spectacle markings around it’s eyes filled her head. She couldn’t help but smirk a little at the memory.

 “Your turn,” she said suddenly, making McGonagall raise a slender eyebrow. She nodded. “My middle name,” Hermione demanded.

 “Jean.” Hermione heaved a great sigh of relief and her old teacher embraced her. “Leave your trunk,” she said. “We have to get out as quickly as possible. The place is littered with Death Eaters.” Hermione nodded once more and her teacher rapped her hard on the head with her wand, and then did the same to herself. Hermione felt the familiar feeling of the disillusionment charm trickling down her neck like cold water.

 “Getting in was the easy part,” McGonagall muttered. “But getting out, well, stay close and do exactly as I say. Then perhaps we shall both get out alive.” Hermione nodded.

 The two witches slid silently out of the door and closed it noiselessly behind them.

 “Not a word,” McGonagall mouthed at her. She nodded. They made their way unnoticed through the corridors towards the main staircase, flattening themselves against the walls, secure under the shadows, their disillusioned bodies making them virtually unnoticeable. Two Death Eaters rounded the corner and they ducked into a small dark alcove, a short ugly gargoyle sitting above their heads, rustling it’s wings as it settled itself into a more comfortable position. As the two men drew nearer, the gargoyle, having found a satisfactory sitting position, looked down, and spotted them, and gave a loud echoing shriek.

 “Intruders! Intruders in the castle!” it bellowed at the two men who had just passed them. They span around, and seeing Hermione and McGonagall, who had leapt from their hiding spot, sprinted after them, green and red streams of light narrowly missing their heads. Hermione shot a stunning spell over her shoulder, hitting one of the men squarely in the chest, when four more came darting around the corner to join the chase.

 The two women fired random jinxes over their shoulders as they ran, narrowly dodging the streams of green light that persistently followed them. Hermione let out a cry of pain as she felt a curse hit her back. A searing ripping sensation tore through her flesh, as though it were being flayed from her very bones. She fell, clattering to the ground as the ripping, burning sensation continued to spread, until she felt a warm, sticky substance lace it’s way through the fire. She grew dizzy, her sight becoming fuzzy; the last things she saw were the faces of Severus Snape and Bellatrix Lestrange looking down at her, before the blackness engulfed her.

 Hermione could hear murmuring, the sound of many voices talking in hushed whispers around her. Every inch of her body stung, and she could feel her blood thumping painfully through her head. She was in a bed. It felt soft and warm, and somehow familiar. She opened her eyes slowly, the room around her gradually coming into focus. The voices all seemed to quiet  at once as someone shushed them, a circle of anxious faces looking down at her. Professor McGonagall smiled kindly at her, along with Arthur and Molly Weasely, Ron and Ginny. Everyone seemed to heave a simultaneous sigh of relief as she smiled weakly up at them.

 “Hey,” she croaked. Ginny gave a nervous laugh and Mrs Weasely let out a cry of relief, throwing her arms around her and everyone laughed. Hermione winced sharply as she did so.

 “Careful now Molly,” came a soft, familiar voice at her side. “She has been through a lot. She’ll be rather delicate for a while.” Hermione looked slowly to her side once Molly had released her and smiled weakly.

 “Narcissa.”

 “Hello,” Narcissa smiled down at her. Hermione had to fight the urge to take the blonde’s hand and pull her close, ignoring the confused and frowning faces that surrounded her.

 “What happened? Where am I?

 “Sectum Sempera’s what happened,” said another voice to her side. Hermione looked over and found herself staring at a surprisingly healthy looking Bellatrix. “Sorry about that,” the dark haired witch mumbled. “Had to make it look convincing.”

 “We were being chased,” McGonagall explained. “Bellatrix had to curse you, so that someone else didn’t kill you first. And then we bought you back here to Black Hall so that Narcissa could heal you” Hermione turned to look confusedly at Narcissa, who smiled gently.

 “Double agent,” she murmured. “I’ll explain all this later.” Hermione nodded and closed her eyes wearily, rubbing her throbbing head. So much had changed. She had no idea what was happening. “You need to rest. You’ve been through quite an ordeal,” Narcissa said. She looked up at the vast mass of people in the room. “I’m sorry everyone but I am afraid I am going to have to ask you to leave. I know you all want to speak to Hermione but you are going to have to wait until she has got some of her strength back. Visiting hours for today are over.” Everyone grumbled loudly as Bellatrix ushered them out of the room. McGonagall, who was the last to leave, gave her a reassuring smile, and said,

 “Get some rest. We can talk more in the morning.” Hermione nodded and said goodnight.

 Once the door was safely shut, and they were alone, Narcissa moved from her seat next to the bed and wrapped the girl in her arms, kissing her very gently, very carefully on the lips.

 “I thought you promised me you’d never make me worry like that again?” she smiled, tears sliding from her eyes. Hermione smiled weakly and muttered and apology. She simply lay encased in Narcissa protective arms, her head throbbing as memories swirled confused and painful around her head. She could not tell what was the original memory, and what was a result of her mission. And with every new or duplicated memory her head throbbed harder.

 “Narcissa, what’s happened? My God everything is so different, I don’t understand. I remember everything as it happened to me but I…” Narcissa hushed her as tears started to spill from her lover’s eyes, and she held her tightly in her arms.

 “Bella is a double agent,” she explained calmly. “It’s all very complicated, but when you triggered the alarm at the castle Bella had to curse you, bad enough to make them stop attacking, but not so bad that I wouldn’t be able to heal you once they got you back here. She used Sectum Sempera, and you hit your head when you collapsed. You’ll be back in action in a few days.” Hermione gave a tiny nod as Narcissa smiled reassuringly at her, and wiped away the tears from her face.

 “But Bella… and I thought I saw Snape, and…” Tears streamed from her eyes as she began to sob again. “Oh God it hurts Cissy. It really hurts.”

 “I know my love,” Narcissa whispered, planting a soft kiss on her forehead. She reached over and uncorked a little bottle that had been sitting on the bedside table. “Drink this,” she said, holding the glass rim up to Hermione’s lips. “It will help with the pain.” Hermione did as she was told, and then held tightly onto Narcissa as she rested her head on her chest once more.

 “It’s all so confused Cissy. I don’t understand what’s happening.”

 “Later,” Narcissa said gently, smoothing the girls thick curls from her face. “I’ll explain everything to you later. I promise. Okay?” Hermione nodded. The painkilling potion that Narcissa had given her was making her drowsy. And with her throbbing head rested on her lover’s chest, and the familiar sound of her fluttering heartbeat filling her mind, she drifted into a dreamless sleep.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry about the gap over the last couple of days I have had the flue. Hope you enjoy this chapter. Let me know what you think :) happy reading everyone and thanks for all the reviews so far :)


	12. Chapter 12

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So I'm reeeeeally sorry but I realised that i kinda fucked up and accidentally published chapter thirteen as chapter twelve and missed out chapter twelve .... So now i have both posted the correct chapter twelve, and posted what was chapter twelve on here as chapter thirteen... I'm moron... I know. Please don't kill me!   
> Please keep reading and let me know what you all think of the correct version of events :P

Wind howled around the burrow, making the towering home creak under the pressure of protecting its inhabitants form the storm outside. The resistance was sat around the long dining table of the Weasley home, all of them whispering quietly to their neighbours as Narcissa and Hermione walked in. Silence dropped over the table as they sat down, every pair of eyes studying them intently.

            “So, Hermione,” McGonagall said, drawing attention back to the meeting, “I trust that Narcissa has filled you in on all you need to know?” Hermione nodded. “Good. But there is one more thing we have to fill you in on.” She hesitated, and Hermione looked confusedly around the table, all eyes now avoiding her own.

            “What?”

            “Potter, he is alive. I understand that in your past, he was killed. But whatever you did, it changed a lot.”

            “The Dark Lord realised the Potter was the last horcrux, and that if he killed him, it would leave him vulnerable,” Bellatrix explained. “He is being held in a cell in the dungeons of Hogwarts.”

            “And the plan,” Sirius said, “is to launch a rescue mission.”

            “We shall send in a small team, five or six of us at most, to infiltrate the castle whilst Bellatrix and Severus lure his guards away from the cell,” Lupin finished.

            “But what then?” Hermione asked desperately. “Harry is still a horcrux, which means even if we can free him we still can’t kill Voldemort.”  Hermione ignored the various flinches and cringes of discomfort that shuddered around the table. “So what then? What do we do when we get Harry back? We can’t simply kill him. And that is the only way to destroy the horcrux.” A terrible silence hung, suspended precariously over the table like a four taloned pitchfork. Hermione stared wide eyed at each of her fellow Order members as the shocking realisation of their silence crept over her. “No. No! We can’t!” Narcissa took her distraught lovers hand in her own and looked at her sadly.

            “We don’t want to kill him Hermione. That’s not the plan. But it is dangerous.”

            “Well what is it then?” she demanded. Narcissa looked down for a moment before continuing.

            “The only thing, that we could get our hands on that will destroy the part of the Dark Lords sole that lives inside Harry, is Basilisk venom,” she said slowly. “We want to feed it into his blood stream, in the hope that it will destroy the horcrux.”

            “But that would kill him!”

            “We have phoenix tears,” Draco said, speaking up for the first time that evening. Hermione looked up at him and frowned.

            “How?”

            “Draco and I went to harvest the venom. Found a baby one in Bolivia. It bit him. We took Fawks with us just in case and when he healed Draco we collected some of his tears because we knew we would be needed them again,” Ron explained.

            “When was this?”

            “Whilst you were, away.”

“So it won’t kill him?” she asked, looking back at Narcissa.

“Hermione, I can’t say for sure. We will have to bring him as close to death as possible, to give ourselves the best chance of destroying the horcrux.” Hermione gazed at her, tears burning behind her eyes.

            “So we are going to save him, so that we can kill him?”

            “We have no other choice,” Kingsley said gravely. Hermione looked pleadingly around the table. Mrs Weasely was crying, Ron and Ginny both looked livid, but to Hermione’s greatest surprise, Draco had silent tear tracks marking his sad, pale face.

            “And you’re all okay with this are you? Does Harry even have a say? Does he even know?” When no one answered she shunted her chair back from the table, glaring down at the group. “This is sick.” And with that, she stormed from the kitchen, slamming the door behind her.

 

Narcissa found Hermione sitting on one of the squishy sofas in the Weasely’s living room, hugging her knees and staring blindly into the flames, angry tears marking her beautiful young face. The orange light of the fire highlighted the gold and copper streaks in her hair, and made her skin look smooth and pale, almost translucent.

            “You remind me of when we were at Hogwarts, sitting there like that, gazing into the fire, making me guess at what you must be thinking about. Now I know that it was decisions like this, moments like that, which you were always so wrapped up in.”

            “It’s so overwhelming,” she muttered. “It’s so hard to adjust to all the changes. I remember it all, my way, those are the memories that I feel are real. The others are more like dreams. I know what happened, but it doesn’t feel real, like it happened to someone else, and I am just hearing the story. There are people in there, who I have hated all my life, ever since I met them, who are now my friends. And others who I watched die, but who never did.” Narcissa sat next to her young lover and pulled her into the safety and warmth of her arms. “And now,” she continued, “they, you all, have offered me my best friend back from the dead, only to tell me that he will probably die anyway.”            

“I shan’t pretend to even begin to know how you feel,” Narcissa murmured. “But my love I do know this, it is the only chance we have to win this war. And you, you alone have given us this chance. We cannot waist it. Because it’s the only chance we may have to protect ourselves, the only way we can keep our friends, our families,” she took the girls face in her cool slender hands and looked deep into her soft hazel eyes, “and our lovers, safe.” Hermione contemplated this for a moment, contemplated what it would be like to loose Narcissa, to watch her slip away from her. Even the idea alone was too much to bear.

            “Okay.” And she kissed her, softly, tenderly, deeply on the lips, holding her lover to her, as if at any moment, she might be torn from her.

 

Filled with a new found sense of courage, and hard set determination, Hermione took her love’s hand in her own, and returned to the kitchen.

            “So,” she said. “What is the plan?”


	13. Chapter 13

The plan was a simple one. Hermione, Draco, Ron, Sirius and Lupin would appartate into the tunnel below the Shrieking Shack and follow the passage up to the castle grounds. From there they would sneak into the dungeons where, hopefully, Bellatrix and Snape would be waiting to unlock Harry’s cell.

 

As the group congregated outside the Burrow the last rays of the sun had sunk into hiding behind the hills surrounding the house, casting long dark shadows over them, and making the summers evening unnervingly chill. Hermione and Narcissa stood close to one another, Hermione looking down at her hands.

     “I want to come with you,” Narcissa said. Hermione smiled.

     “They need you here, to prepare for when we bring Harry back.”

     “What if you get hurt?”

     “Then they’ll bring me back to you and you’ll heal me,” Hermione smiled. “It’ll be fine Cissy. I promise. I’m coming back. You won’t loose me again. Not tonight.” The older witch took her face in her hands and pulled her into a kiss for all the Order to see. She rested her forehead against her lovers and closed her eyes, savouring the moment before she knew she would have to let her go.

     “Just make sure you do,” she whispered. She pulled back and smirked. “Oh look, I’ve made you blush. I was always good at that.” Hermione grinned and kissed her once more, before joining the rest of the group preparing to depart. Out of the corner of her eye she saw one of the twins gleefully accepting a large handful of galleons from Sirius. She felt the corners of her mouth twitch into a little smile, and with one last look at her lover, she disappeared with a loud crack.

 

Hermione stumbled as she reappeared in the dark passage way and reached out to steady herself against he dank earthy wall of the tunnel. As they waited for them all to arrive, the walls of the tunnel and shadows of her fellow Order members gradually came into focus. Sirius looked at her irritatedly for a moment.

“You and my cousin have cost me ten gallions,” he growled. Hermione smirked, and then she watched as he transformed into the great shaggy black dog that was his animagus form. When they were all present and able to see the pathway ahead of them, they bent their heads and followed Sirius up the pathway toward the Whomping Willow.

 

When they reached the mouth of the tunnel they waited at the base of the tree as Sirius froze the manic waving of it’s many arms by pressing the nodule at it’s base with his nose. They clambered out of the tree and stood, gazing up at the dark castle above them.

     “Right,” Lupin whispered, ”disillusionment charms, now. They may not be invisibility cloaks but they should keep us concealed as long as we stick to the shadows.“ Ron, Draco and Hermione nodded and did as they were told, then, they hurried up the bank to the outer walls of the castle. The three of them exchanged confused glances as they stood outside the area of wall that Sirius was sniffing around. Lupin grinned and pulled aside the curtain of ivy to reveal the grimy bricks beneath it and pulled out his wand.

     “Merlin I hope this still works,” he muttered to himself. He tapped a complex combination of bricks with the tip of his wand and they crumbled away to reveal a low passageway into the castle, just big enough to fit a man inside. “We discovered it in our final year once the map was finished,” he explained.

 

Crouching low, they followed Sirius and Lupin into the passage which sealed itself up behind them. No one spoke, the only sound filling the passage coming from the scratching of Sirius’s claws against the stones underfoot and the occasional drip of water from the dank walls. The tunnel began to slope down as they descended deeper and deeper into the heart of the castle dungeons. They could hear voices now above them, the harsh cackling of Death Eaters, and the occasional shout of a prisoner.

 

When at last they stopped Lupin held up his hand, signalling for silence. Sirius poked his nose around the opening of the passage. He pulled his head back in and they watched as he returned to his human form grinning.

     “All clear,” he said. “Only Bellatrix. I could smell that from a mile off.” A hand appeared through the opening of the door and grabbed his hair, dragging him out from the tunnel. The others leapt after him, only to find that Bellatrix was holding him against the wall, her face not inches from his own, practically snarling at him.

     “Let’s just clarify who you were talking about cousin,” she spat. He grinned.

     “Bella,” Hermione hissed, “don’t we have something a little more important to deal with first?” Bella huffed and released her cousin reluctantly.

     “Later,” she warned, pointing one long nailed finger at him. He grinned back at her.

     “We have five minutes to get Potter and get him back into the tunnel so if you wouldn’t mind behaving like adults for once I suggest that we get a move on,” Snape growled. They nodded and when his back was turned Bella and Sirius both stuck their tongues out at him in unison. Their hatred for Snape was perhaps the one thing the two cousins had in common apart from their blood.

 

Snape and Lupin took up positions at the mouth of the corridor and Bella, Hermione, Draco and Sirius made their way toward the cell at the end of the long hall. It was made of cast iron, with two heavy iron strips crossing over it, a maze of locks covering the cross. And covering the door, was a heavy dark green chain that seemed to be bolted inside the wall either side of the door. Only, when Hermione looked closer, she noticed that the chain seemed to be moving. In fact it wasn’t a chain at all, but hundreds and hundreds of tiny glittering green snakes, all woven around each other, their eyes sparkling dangerously.

     “Careful,” Bella said. “One bite and you’d be dead within ten minutes and not even my sister would be able to save you.”

 

Bellatrix touched the tip of her wand to one of he snakes and a whisper of purple smoke wove it’s way around them, sending them slithering back into the walls from which they came. Then she took a little sliver key and placed it in the centre of the door. It followed the maze of locks over the door, unlocking each bolt with a loud clunk until finally the door swung open.

 

Harry looked up from the corner he was sitting in and a weak smile broke out on his face. Draco rushed to him and took his face in his hands, murmuring soft words to him as he struggled to restrain his emotions.

     “No time for sentiments Draco we have to go,” Bellatrix snapped. Draco glared up at her but did as he was told, helping Harry to his feat and out of the little cell.

     “I knew you would come,” Harry muttered. Hermione opened her mouth to reply, only to briskly close it again as she realised that the comment was not in fact for her.

     “I promised didn’t I?” Draco smiled.   


	14. Chapter 14

When the party appeared in the front hall of Malfoy Manor Narcissa and the others were waiting for them.

     “Take him upstairs,” she mumbled to Draco. He nodded, his eyes shining as he looked uncertainly at his mother, before he began to help Harry up the staircase. Hermione watched in silence, her thoughts were spiralling around her brain, spinning uncontrollably as she struggled to imagine under what conceivable circumstances those two, whom she had known as perpetual enemies, could ever have become lovers. Narcissa looked at her stunned face and smirked a little.

     “I’ll explain later,” she muttered, taking Hermione’s hand and leading her up the stairs.

 

Harry was sitting on one of the grand guest room beds, talking fervently under his breath to Draco. As they entered Hermione saw his hand drop from the other boy’s face and Draco turned to look imploringly at his mother. She looked back at him, refusing to say anything, the inevitable conclusions of many a conversation and argument circulating between them, unspoken yet so acutely obvious to the rest of the room. 

     “Are you ready Harry?” Narcissa asked, breaking the intolerably heavy silence that had momentarily befallen the room. He nodded. “And Severus has explained everything to you?” Again he nodded. “Okay. Lie back.” Hermione watched as her friend lay back on the plump pillows and Draco moved to the other side of the bed, away from his mother, to take his lover’s hand in his own. Everyone was silent as Narcissa carefully inserted a long needle, which was connected to a small phial containing an inky black liquid, into Harry’s forearm. She then held her wand, suspended above Harry’s chest, directly above his heart, murmuring to herself, and a long red thread wove it’s way from her want tip and began to trace his heart rate, hovering just above his chest as it did so. Then, once everything had been prepared, she tipped the little phial upside down in it’s clamp stand and the room watched as the Basilisk venom trickled down the tube into Harry’s arm.

 

Harry winced as the poison began to drain directly into his blood-stream. The trace above his chest began to quicken as the phial emptied. Harry grimaced in pain and he gripped his lovers hand. As the trace grew quicker and quicker, the poison spreading throughout his body, he cried out in pain as Draco desperately tried to calm him. Hermione looked over to see that Ron was crying, and when she reached up she found that her own face was wet with tears also. But all she could do was stand back and watch.

 

The trace stilled. Silence dropped, heavy and suffocating over the room. A single, continuous red thread lay suspended above Harry’s chest as his screaming stopped, and he lost consciousness. Narcissa puled the needle from his arm and instead filled a syringe with a clear liquid from a small bottle at her side, ripping Harry’s shirt open and inserting the needle into the skin directly above his heart. Phoenix tears.

     “Mother it’s not working,” Draco hissed.

     “Just give it a minute,” Narcissa said calmly. The room watched in silent desperation, waiting for the trace to reappear. Hermione let out a choked sob and turned away, unable to watch any more as Draco ran his frantic hands though his hair, tears streaming down his face.

     “Mother do something!” he cried. Narcissa grabbed a small round device and placed it over Harry’s heart. The device emitted small amount of red sparks as it shocked him. Harry’s lifeless body convulsed and then lay still again. She shocked him again, two, three times. Nothing. But as the last of the little sparks sank into his chest he let out a gasp, eyes snapping open as he sucked the air back into his lungs. The room seemed to breathe a collective sigh of relief with him. Draco laughed and pulled the boy into his arms. Once Draco had released him, Harry looked around at the room.

     “It’s done.”

 

Hermione was sitting on the great ornate bed in the master bedroom of Malfoy Manner. Her hands were shaking. She watched them with a mild curiosity. She could still hear the blood pounding in her ears. Narcissa’s white hands wrapped themselves around her own and she looked up to see her lover sitting besides her on the bed. Narcissa kissed her, gently, carefully on the lips, and Hermione wrapped her arms around the older witch, pulling her into a much needed hug.  

     “I thought we were going to loose him at one point,” Narcissa whispered. “I don’t know if I would have been able to handle that. Not with Draco in the room.”

     “You were amazing.” Hermione pulled back and held her lover’s face in her hands. “You were so calm. And so brave. You bought him back, and destroyed the horcrux. Now we have a real chance at ending this war.”

     “I don’t know whether Draco would have ever forgiven me if I had let him die.”

     “He seems to love him very much.” And he did. She could see it. But she couldn’t help but look at them both a little differently. The way the others looked at her and Narcissa she supposed.

     “I suppose I had better explain.”

     “Yes please.”

 

And so Narcissa told Hermione how Harry had formed a friendship with Draco right from first year, determined (as they both were) to break down the barrier between houses. She told her how Harry had been there for him when Lucius was arrested and how, during the Christmas holidays of sixth year, they had found the courage to tell each other how they really felt.

     “You four have all been friends right from the beginning,” she explained. “And even when the relationship developed, it didn’t impact the strength of the group as a whole. At least I don’t think it did.” It was all Hermione could do to star at her, shocked into silence. Narcissa laughed. “My my, Hermione Granger lost for words. This is not a common occurrence. I see it didn’t happen like that in your reality.”

     “No. Not really.” Narcissa chuckled again.

     “You’ll get used to it. Just as people will grow used to the idea of us.”

     “Are you sure?”

     “I am. If they love you at least half as much as I do, they will learn to accept us.”    

 

         


	15. Chapter 15

They stood, looking up that the castle, their hearts hammering in their chests. Hermione has been sceptical about their abilities to raise a sufficient army, but they had. She looked at her fellow witches and wizards, at the centaurs behind them, and at the giants crouching behind the trees. It had filled her with confidence to see so many answer their plea for help. But now, standing here in the shadow of the castle, that was surrounded by dementors, and guarded at every entrance by a tall masked death eater. She felt small. The one advantage they did have however, was surprise. They had sent out word via the resistance radio channel of a coup, tonight at the castle, warning those students who still remained at the castle to arm themselves. Tonight was the night. It all ended tonight.

They crawled through the Forbidden Forrest closer to the castle, stopping to watch the death eaters that were supposedly guarding the entrances as they lounged languidly against the doors and gates. Harry signalled and the front line moved silently forwards, all but invisible as their disillusioned bodies crept along the darkened castle walls. There was a flash of red light and the death eaters stunned bodies all slumped in unison to the ground. Hermione looked down at the frozen body at her feet and pulled the white bone mask off of his face, so that she was staring down into Nott's wide eyes. She smirked, and then followed the rest of the party up the hill towards the school.

They stood, wands drawn, in front of the wall of dementaurs preventing their entrance to the school.

"Ready?" Harry asked, looking sideways at Ron and Hermione. "Because once we do this there is no going back. The alarms will sound, and they will launch their attack." They nodded. Harry raised his wand and the army behind him followed his lead. He bellowed,

"EXPECTO PATRONUM!" The grounds were filled with the cry and an army of silvery white animals charged at the dementaurs, scattering them into the air like torn pieces of paper in the wind. As they reached the castle doors an alarm sounded and the shrill wailing sound of a banshee joined their battle cry.

They flooded through the great oak double doors and as they entered the castle a tidal-wave of death eaters descended on top of them. Hermione found herself back to back with Narcissa as the battle the Carrow twins erupted before them.

"You treacherous little bitch!" Alecto screamed as she fired curse after curse at Narcissa. She shot a stream of green light at her and Hermione screamed, throwing herself in front of Narcissa, knocking them both to the ground as the killing curse skimmed their heads. They looked up at the twins, their wands pointing directly at their throats. Hermione closed her eyes, waiting for the inevitable. A startled gasp and two outraged roars filled the hall, making her open her eyes to see the Alecto's body slumped on the floor, eyes wide and twitching as her stunned body lay there in the middle of the floor. The two witches looked up to see Bella and Andy standing at the top of the stairs, wands drawn, smirks painted on their beautiful dark faces. They had never looked so similar. Narcissa laughed and the two of them jumped up to re-join the fight. As they did so what seemed like the entire student body emerged from all directions, wands raised.

A bright stream of green light shot past them, dangerously close to Hermione's ear, pulling their attention back to the fight. They turned around the see Macnair grinning dangerously at them.

"Really says a lot if you have to bring children into the fight doesn't it," he sneered. Hermione glared at him and shot a quick fire of curses his way as Harry Ron and Draco sprinted past them down the stairs. Macnair spun elaborately out of her line of fire sending a stream of bright green light over his shoulder as he straightened up. Hermione ducked, but the curse soared passed her. There was a moment of deafening silence. Narcissa screamed. Andromeda let out an almost incoherent roar of fury and a stream of green erupted from her wand tip, hitting Macnair squarly in the chest. He fell backwards, eyes frozen in shock, hitting the ground with a dull thud. Narcissa ran to her sister and fell to her knees by her side, a choked cry escaping her. Bella's lifeless eyes were staring up at her, dull and unblinking as Narcissa sobbed over her still warm body.

"Cissy we have to get out of here," Andromeda choked over the clamour of the battle. "Cissy it's not safe we have to move!" Whether Narcissa could not, or would not hear her was unclear. But she refused to move. Hermione crouched besides her and gripped her shoulders in her hands.

"Narcissa, my love, please we have to go. If we don't we will all be in danger."

"The treacherous little bitch deserved it." They looked up to see Avery smirking down at them. "One down, two to go." Narcissa sprang to her feel and let out a furious scream wand raised.

Hermione watched as the spell hit her. She stood there for a minute, her hands to her chest, and when she pulled them away, they were covered in dark red blood. She slumped to the ground and Hermione let out a furious roar as red sparks exploded from her wand. Avery was thrown backwards as the spell hit him, his head cracking loudly against the wall as he hit it and slid to the floor frozen. Hermione rushed to Narcissa's side and began desperately to search for the source of the bleeding.

"Hermione…" Narcissa's paling face looked up at her, her icy eyes filled with fear.

"We have to get you out of here," she said, her voice thick and shaking.

"They have barricaded the hospital wing. Sealed it off completely so that no death eaters can get in. I don't know how but it seems like the safest place to go," Andromida said, her voice thick with tears. Hermione nodded and gripped Narcissa's hand in her own before disapparating.

They appeared in the middle of the hospital wing floor, people rushing madly about them in every direction.

"Somebody help!" Hermione screamed, as she ripped open Narcissa's robes in a desperate attempt to locate the source of the bleeding. She couldn't see. There was too much blood. She couldn't see where it was coming from. Every time she wiped it away more would appear. It was impossible to locate the source.

Narcissa's eyes were hazy, her lids drifting shut as she began to loose consciousness.

"Cissy please stay with me. You have to stay awake," Hermione pleaded as she tried to hold the blood soaked rags in her hands to her lover's torso. "Narcissa please, please don't leave me." Tears were rolling down her face, and she was shaking as she cried. Narcissa's head lolled to the side as she lapsed into unconsciousness and Hermione seemed almost to choke on her own cry for help. Madame Pomfrey came running over to them and she pushed Hermione roughly out of the way.

"What was the spell? What curse hit her?" she demanded as she held her wand above Narcissa, the blood clearing. Hermione just shook her head and watched desperately as her lover lay there, motionless.

"We didn't see," Andromeda whispered. As the blood cleared Hermione saw a web of deep gashes in Narcissa's skin. It was unclear where one ended, and another began. But she recognised the Snape's spell instantly. Madame Pomfrey began to whisper under her breath, and very slowly, the cuts began to heal themselves, the skin stitching its self back together little bit by little bit.

Narcissa's eyes blue eyes opened slowly and Andromeda breathed a sigh of relief as Hermione rushed once more to her lovers side and kissed her. She held her, and simply beamed at her. There weren't words to express the extent of her relief.

The doors to the hospital wing banged open and a small first year in Hufflepuff robes stood, grinning.

"He's dead! The Dark Lord is dead!"


	16. Chapter 16

They stood, looking up that the castle, their hearts hammering in their chests. Hermione had been sceptical about their abilities to raise a sufficient army, but they had. She looked at her fellow witches and wizards, at the centaurs behind them, and at the giants crouching in the trees. It had filled her with confidence to see so many answer their plea for help. But now, standing here in the shadow of the castle that was surrounded by dementors, and guarded at every entrance by a tall masked death eater, she felt small. The one advantage they did have however, was surprise. They had sent out word via the resistance radio channel of a coup, tonight at the castle, warning those students who still remained at the castle to arm themselves. Tonight was the night. It all ended tonight.

 

They crawled through the Forbidden Forrest closer to the castle. There were death eaters at every entrance, their faces hidden by both hood and mask. Harry signalled them and the front line moved silently forwards, all but invisible as their disillusioned bodies crept along the darkened castle walls. There was a flash of red light and the death eaters stunned bodies all slumped in unison to the ground. Hermione looked down at the frozen body and pulled the white bone mask off of his face, so that she was staring down at Nott’s wide eyed face. She smirked, and then followed the rest of the party up the hill towards the school.

 

They stood, wands drawn, in front of the wall of dementaurs preventing their entrance to the school.

     “Ready?” Harry asked, looking sideways at Ron and Hermione. “Because once we do this there is no going back. The alarms will sound, and they will launch their attack.” They nodded. Harry raised his wand and the army behind him followed his lead. He screamed,

     “EXPECTO PATRONUM!” The grounds were filled with the cry and an army of silvery white animals charged at the dementaurs, scattering them into the air like torn pieces of paper in the wind. As they reached the castle doors an alarm sounded and the shrill wailing sound of a banshee joined their battle cry.

 

As they entered the castle a wave of death eater descended on top of them. Hermione found herself back to back with Narcissa as the battle the Carrow twins.

     “You treacherous little bitch!” Alecto screamed as she fired curse after curse at Narcissa. She shot a stream of green light at her and Hermione screamed, throwing herself in front of Narcissa, knocking them both to the ground as the killing curse skimmed their heads. They looked up at the twins, their wands pointing directly at their throats. Hermione closed her eyes, waiting for the inevitable. A startled gasp and two outraged roars filled the hall, making her open her eyes to see the Carrow’s bodies slumped on the floor, eyes wide and twitching as her stunned body lay there in the middle of the floor. The two witches looked up to see Bella and Andy standing at the top of the stairs, wands drawn, smirks painted on their beautiful dark faces. Narcissa laughed and the two of them jumped up to re-join the fight. As they did so what seemed like the entire student body emerged, wands raised.

 

A bright stream of green light shot past them, dangerously close to Hermione’s ear, pulling their attention back to the fight. They turned around the see Macnair grinning dangerously at them.

     “Really says a lot if you have to bring children into the fight doesn’t it.” Hermione glared at him and shot a quick fire of curses at him as Harry Ron and Draco sprinted passed them down the stairs. Macnair spun elaborately out of her line of fire sending a stream of bright green light over his shoulder as he straightened up. Hermione ducked, but the curse soared passed her. There was a moment of deafening silence. Narcissa screamed. Andromeda let out an almost incoherent roar of fury and a stream of green erupted from her wand tip, hitting Macnair squarly in the chest. He fell backwards, eyes frozen in shock, hitting the ground with a dull thud. Narcissa ran to her sister and fell to her knees by her side, a choked cry escaping her. Bella’s lifeless eyes were staring up at her, dull and unblinking as Narcissa sobbed over her.

     “Cissy we have to get out of here,” Andromeda choked over the clamour of the battle. “Cissy it’s not safe we have to move!” Whether Narcissa could not, or would not hear her was unclear. But she refused to move. Hermione crouched besides her and gripped her shoulders in her hands.

     “Narcissa, my love, please we have to go. If we don’t we will all be in danger.”

     “The treacherous little bitch deserved it.” They looked up to see Avery smirking down at them. “One down, two to go.” Narcissa sprang to her feel and let out a furious scream wand raised.

 

Hermione watched as the spell hit her. She stood there for a minute, her hands to her chest, and when she pulled them away, they were covered in dark red blood. She slumped to the ground and Hermione screamed, red sparks flying from her wand. Avery was thrown backwards as the spell hit him, his head cracking loudly against the wall as he hit it and slid to the floor frozen. Hermione rushed to Narcissa’s side and began desperately to search for the source of the bleeding.

     “Hermione…” Narcissa’s paling face looked up at her, her icy eyes filled with fear.

     “We have to get you out of here,” she said, her voice thick and shaking.

     “They have barricaded the hospital wing. Sealed it off completely so that no death eaters can get in. I don’t know how but it seems like the safest place to go.” Hermione nodded and gripped Narcissa’s hand in her own before disapparating.

 

They appeared in the middle of the hospital wing floor, people rushing madly about them in every direction.

     “Somebody help!” Hermione screamed, as she ripped open Narcissa’s robes in a desperate attempt to locate the source of the bleeding. She couldn’t see. There was too much blood. She couldn’t see where it was coming from. Every time she wiped it away more would appear. It was impossible to locate the source.

 

Narcissa’s eyes were hazy, her lids drifting shut as she began to loose consciousness.

     “Cissy please stay with me. You have to stay awake.” Hermione pleaded as she tried to hold the blood soaked rags in her hands to her lover’s torso. “Narcissa please, please don’t leave me.” Tears were rolling down her face, and she was shaking as she cried. Madame Pomfrey came running over to them and she pushed Hermione out of the way.

     “What was the spell? What curse hit her?” she demanded as she held her wand above Narcissa, the blood clearing. Hermione just shook her head and watched desperately as her lover lapsed into unconsciousness.

     “We didn’t see,” Andromeda whispered. As the blood cleared Hermione saw a web of deep gashes in Narcissa’s skin. It was unclear where one ended, and another began. But she recognised the Snape’s spell instantly. Madame Pomfrey began to whisper under her breath, and very slowly, the cuts began to heal themselves, the skin stitching its self back together little bit by little bit.

 

Narcissa’s eyes blue eyes opened slowly and Andromeda breathed a sigh of relief as Hermione rushed once more to her lovers side and kissed her. She held her, and simply beamed at her. There weren’t words to express the extent of her relief.

 

The doors to the hospital wing banged open and a small first year in Hufflepuff robes stood, grinning.

     “He’s dead! The Dark Lord is dead!”    

 

  


	17. Chapter 17

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> This is the last little chapter of this story! I hope you liked it. Please let me know what you think :)

Hermione followed the muffled sound of music down the corridor, stopping just outside the polished oak double doors, listening quietly. The light notes wove themselves through the door and she smiled as she listened to the soft playing of the piano. Very carefully, she pushed open the door, and stood silently just over the threshold, simply watching. The warm evening sun was setting over the horizon, filling the music room with it’s soft orange and pink glow. Narcissa was sat at the piano, their five year old daughter next to her, her little legs dangling off of the stool. Hermione smiled to herself as she watch her wife teach their child the simply lullaby, Bella’s little fingers dancing over the keys with all her mothers natural talent. 

When the song was finished, and the child look up at her mother expectantly, Hermione clapped, walking into the room, a smile break out across her face as she was unable to contain it any longer. The little girl’s head spun around, her rich brown curls flying out around her for a moment and then settling around her beaming oval face as she looked back at her mother. She jumped off of the stool and ran towards her and Hermione laughed and scooped her up into her arms laughing. 

“What did you think?” Bellatrix asked nervously. “Did you like it?” Hermione smiled. 

“My darling you were magnificent,” she said. “It was beautiful.” The child grinned and planted a little kiss on her mothers cheek, making both women chuckle. Hermione looked at her for a moment, her little girl filling her with wander. A perfect mix of the two of them. She hadn’t thought it possible. 

“Go and play,” Hermione said at last, planting a quick kiss on her forehead before setting her down. Bella smiled at her mothers, before running out of the room, her little giggle echoing down the hall. 

Narcissa started to play again, a quiet, simple little tune that never failed to send a warm ripple of butterflies through her stomach. He looked at her wife for a moment, seeing not only the features that she had fallen in love with, and which had barely aged at all, but those which were now shared by their daughter; the fine lines of her cheekbones, her icy blue eyes. She smiled and leant her head on her wife’s shoulder and closed her eyes, listening to the soothing lullaby that filled the room. 

“Okay,” Narcissa asked quietly, her hands never ceasing. Hermione looked up to find her staring into her own eyes and she nodded, a single tear rolling down her cheek. 

“The war is over. I have my child. I have my wife. What else could I possibly ask for? Everything is perfect.”


End file.
